


Counting Sheep

by Dessert_Maniac



Series: Counting Stars [2]
Category: Senki Zesshou Symphogear
Genre: Alternate Universe - Family, F/F, Gen, Grief/Mourning, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-05-10 03:48:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 80
Words: 55,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5569819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dessert_Maniac/pseuds/Dessert_Maniac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes she has difficulty falling asleep.</p><p>Sometimes she goes out to count stars, but sometimes she stays in bed and counts sheep instead. She likes to imagine them jumping over the fence, bounding away to wherever their hearts desire; right around when she starts losing track of her numbers, she falls asleep.</p><p>Sometimes, though, she can't fall asleep, so she climbs into her parents' bed. Their warmth is very reassuring.</p><p>[Elfnein lives with Tsubasa and Maria now; a story told in bits and pieces and from three points of view.] [Knowledge of <i>Counting Stars</i> not necessary.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 2.01 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a little awkward on the way home, but she's pretty optimistic, for once.

### ONE

She turns her head to keep the institution in her sight until the car pulls out of the parking lot.

She’s feeling a lot of things: relief, anticipation, nervousness, and even a touch of anxiety.

“The estate’s in the countryside, so I’m afraid it’ll be a couple more hours before we get there,” Mrs. Maria says, then, smiling at her. “We’re going to have to entertain ourselves until then—Tsubasa isn’t one to talk while she’s driving, which is surprising, given her reckless behavior on a motorcycle.”

“Mrs. Tsubasa drives a motorcycle?” She glances at Mrs. Tsubasa in the front, who is smiling faintly but looks more concentrated on the road than on them.

Nodding emphatically, Mrs. Maria elaborates, “Her preferred mode of transportation at our old job was her motorcycle, which had to be replaced regularly because she kept performing _dangerous stunts_ on them.

“You wouldn’t think it, looking at Tsubasa right now, but she’s very reckless when she’s alone. Luckily, her manager usually forced her to take a helicopter or car, which I’m very thankful about, otherwise who knows what might’ve happened to her! Now, Elfnein,” and here Mrs. Maria looks very seriously at her, “I hope you don’t grow up to be as reckless as Tsubasa.”

“O-okay, I won’t,” she answers, though she’s certain they’re never going to have to worry about crazy stunts from her; that’s more Carol’s thing.

“Approximately one hour left until we reach the estate,” Mrs. Tsubasa announces as she pulls into the expressway. “Toll prices, humph.”

Elfnein looks to Mrs. Maria for clarification.

“Well, the Kazanari family estate is far roomier than most houses in and close to the city, so we decided to relocate there. Unfortunately, it’s farther into the countryside, so it’s a rather long commute by car. Still, it doesn’t matter at the moment because Tsubasa works in a town near the estate, and from there you and I can take the train to the city.”

She nods along, absorbing the information, though the locations of everything are really vague in her head—not that she’s ever been that good with keeping track of where she is and stuff, since Papa used to take care of all that.

As long as the adults know, Elfnein’s content with simply tagging along for the ride.

But, there _is_ something she’d like to know: “Am I going to go to school soon?” she asks Mrs. Maria.

Humming thoughtfully, Mrs. Maria says, “There’s only about twenty or so days left before winter break, but we’ll meet with a teacher to se e what our plans will be. All you need to decide over the next few days is whether you want to go to school in town or in the city.”

“Oh.” She had assumed she’d just go to a city school, but she wonders if she might like going to a smaller school—where most kids probably already know each other, and she’ll be the odd one out again, without even Carol to join her.

Mrs. Maria pats her hand. “Don’t worry,” she reassures, “we’ll visit the school in town to give you a sense of what it’s like, and we can check out some schools in the city, too. There’s no pressure.”

“Okay….” She’s thinks she’s already leaning towards going to school in the city. It’d be a big adventure, and besides, she’s already spent most of her life in the countryside.

Mrs. Tsubasa interjects, “Today will be spent settling in at home. The rest can wait until tomorrow; little steps.” She smiles at Elfnein through the rearview mirror.

She smiles back, relieved. She can work with little steps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am back!
> 
> It's the first day of Arc II and the first day of winter quarter. The professor didn't show up to class this morning, but at least I kept my promise, heh.
> 
> Eh, some information, I think, is in order: 
> 
> 1\. I will try to update daily; however, I've learnt my lesson from last quarter, so I have to say that there will be days (or weeks, but hopefully we avoid that) with no updates. I'll give warning ahead of time when I know for certain that I won't be posting anything. 
> 
> 2\. This is the one where you can send in prompts/chapter ideas, since I've built up the background and now it's pretty much the daily lives of TsubaMari with their kid, Elfnein. I do vaguely recall that someone suggested a continuation of that one chapter about a compromising video of drunken Tsubasa at her 21st birthday party; that's one prompt that will show up in a few weeks. Any others, don't hesitate to drop me a line!
> 
> 3\. Speaking of dropping me a line, I've a writing tumblr: teddy-tries-writing.tumblr.com. Please also leave comments here! Tell me how I'm doing, what you liked/didn't like about x chapter, what you'd like to see, questions, concerns, all that. I'm always pleased to get reader feedback ^^
> 
> And that's it. If I think of anything else, I'll append it to chapter two's author note.
> 
> Please review!


	2. 2.02 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elfnein's first impression of her new home.

### TWO

It’s raining by the time they get to the estate.

Her breath fogs up the glass, so she’s been forced to abandon her sightseeing. Luckily, Mrs. Maria tells funny stories, so she doesn’t get bored, and the pitter-patter of the rain provides a calming background noise.

When Mrs. Tsubasa announces that they are two minutes away from the main house, however, she loses focus on Mrs. Maria’s story; she’s too jittery from a sudden bout of nerves to pay attention.

“Relax.”

The tips of Mrs. Maria’s fingers graze her knee, prompting her to glance at Mrs. Maria.

“We have all the time in the world.”

Logically, she knows that’s not true—but it’s the thought that counts, right?

Then the car pulls to a stop. Mrs. Maria tells her to wait for Mrs. Tsubasa to get their umbrellas out of the trunk; so, she waits with a touch of impatience, wanting to know what the dark, blurry silhouette _really_ looks like.

When Mrs. Tsubasa finally opens the car door, holding an umbrella over her, she nearly trips over her own feet in her restlessness.

“Careful, the ground is wet,” Mrs. Tsubasa warns, and Elfnein nods, even though her wide eyes are on the masterpiece of Japanese architecture in front of her.

They’d said _estate_ , so in her head she’d been imagining something… something more Western, like the manors she’d seen scattered around Germany’s countryside.

But she thinks _this_ looks more like something out of a fantasy story—though that might be because it’s currently shrouded in a cloak of rain.

Mrs. Maria, behind her, says, “Welcome home, Elfnein.”

It’s not Carol and Papa in front of their rented lodgings. It’s not Germany.

It’s Mrs. Maria and Mrs. Tsubasa, standing outside in the rain; bright spots of color against a grey background. It’s Japan.

And maybe someday it _will_ be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inching by at a snail's pace; my favorite kind of motion, lol.
> 
> Also. I've recently started on Arc IV of "Counting Stars." It's Carol's side of the story --- _far_ different in tone from this one. I might decide to publish it within the next week or so, once I've built it up a little more; I've skipped over Arc III, but don't worry, we'll get there. Just a little out of order. Then, I'm thinking that Arc V will be the shortest --- an epilogue, though that's far, far in the future.
> 
> Please review! ^^


	3. 2.03 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria has _mom_ feelings over the smallest things.

### THREE

“Let’s go inside before we catch colds,” she suggests.

She doesn’t want to intrude on Elfnein’s moment of reflection, but she can see Elfnein beginning to tremble, and the wind is picking up.

“I will get the suitcases, you two go ahead.” Tsubasa hands an umbrella to Elfnein, saying, “Try not to fly off in the wind.”

Elfnein grimaces, opening up her umbrella as she protests, “I’m not that small!”

Chuckling, Tsubasa waits until Elfnein is ready, then she goes to get their things from the trunk while Maria and Elfnein move towards the house.

“I’m very glad our rooms are in the main compound,” she remarks, “that way we don’t have to brave the rain every time we need to go out.”

Elfnein asks in a tentative voice, “Can I go exploring? Later, when it stops raining?”

“Of course! I don’t think there’s anything off-limits, not as far as I’m aware, but we’ll double-check with Tsubasa. Do you mind if I tag along? I actually haven’t seen much of the estate, since we just moved in three weeks ago, and Tsubasa’s father took care of most the work.”

“S-sure… I don’t mind,” Elfnein replies, a frown crossing her face before her expression smooths out into a small smile, something akin to Kirika’s early expressions way back then.

Just as they duck through the front door, the rain and wind pick up.

Concerned, she murmurs, “I hope Tsubasa doesn’t take too long.” But, there’s a child who needs her attention more than her wife, so she shuts the door behind them and ushers Elfnein through the foyer, down the main hall, and then to a smaller, empty-looking hall.

“This is my and Tsubasa’s room,” she gestures to the first stretch of wall on the left-hand side, “and you can have your pick of any of the other rooms here!”

She wants to usher Elfnein into their room to fuss over her, but she has to rein in her urge to smother; in this respect, Elfnein is closer to Shirabe, who had needed time to trust anyone older than her.

Meanwhile, Elfnein is running her hands along the wall, gently prodding to find the concealed doors—the look of delight on her face when she finds the first room nearly brings tears to Maria’s eyes, and her smile is tremulous when Elfnein turns to her for approval.

Such an inquisitive, independent child who nevertheless needs parental figures in her life.

She’s going to do right by Elfnein.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. I meant to update yesterday, but the rain disrupted my plans xD So I'll double update today; chapter four will either be in half an hour or late tonight, depending on how well I work.


	4. 2.04 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They remain engrossed in the literary world until Maria summons them to dinner.

### FOUR

Maria scolds her for taking so long and letting herself get soaked—“It’ll be your own fault if you catch a cold, you know!”—while toweling her hair dry. It is rather unlike Maria to be so attentive over four minutes’ worth of rain.

“I am sorry,” she offers, catching Maria’s gaze.

Putting the towel aside, Maria sighs, “Well, where _else_ am I supposed to channel my parental instincts? I don’t want to scare her away, or overwhelm her, or make her feel bad about her father, or make her think we have _expectations_ , or—” she waves her hands around to illustrate her point in lieu of using words.

She pulls Maria down to sit beside her, looping an arm around Maria’s waist as Maria nestles into her neck.

They remain so for a minute, simply breathing in tandem, before she points out, “Despite the lack of tactile contact, you have been acting with Elfnein’s comfort and best interests in mind. I am sure she sees that—there is no need to worry such over her impression of you, because she _knows_ , my dear. The rest is up to time….”

“And time bows to no master,” Maria finishes for her, laughing and shaking her head, which tickles Tsubasa’s skin.

“With that said, I think you should check on her; it has been a few minutes,” she says.

Maria laughs again, teasing, “I see _someone’s_ settling into the role of ‘distant father’ already,” but then she asks, serious again, “why don’t _you_ check on her? I’ll get dinner ready while you both get reacquainted with each other.”

Her shoulders droop. She admits, “I am afraid of hurting her. Of making an irrevocable mistake.”

But it is her duty. Her responsibility. An honor.

“That’s my brave Tsubasa,” Maria encourages, squeezing her hands. “Now, go and be a good parent.” Maria leaves, then, taking the used towel with her on the way, and then she is alone.

She does not tarry. Within seconds she is in front of Elfnein’s room on the opposite side of the hall of chambers, at the Blue chamber. Her hand knocks softly.

“Um…come in,” Elfnein’s faint voice grants her permission.

She bows as she slides the door open, murmuring, “Elfnein. I hope you are at ease with your accommodations.” Immediately, she wants to rewind time to rescind her graceless words, but instead she forges onward, “I know the rooms felt… too large and empty when I was a child.”

She is as surprised as Elfnein is at her statement, not having expected her nostalgia to intrude. It is, however, the truth—and she wants Elfnein to be _happy_ , free from the burdens of the adult world.

Elfnein ventures to break the uncertain silence; briefly patting the floor beside her, Elfnein says, “I was just looking through the books.” She nods her head slightly at the low bookshelf in front of her.

“Ah,” she takes the offered seat at a respectable distance, “I hope you like them, but I am sorry if my extrapolation of your taste is erroneous.” Curse her traitorous anxiety—her greatest flaw!

But.

“Ex—extra… pollution? Um, I don’t… I don’t know that word.” Elfnein looks up at her, timid yet inquisitive and expectant.

Quirking her lips, she reaches for a leather-bound book. “I also bought a dictionary—several, in fact, for the language can be a monster at times.” She finds the word and points it out to Elfnein. “Extrapolate.”

After reading the definition and sounding out the word under her breath, Elfnein tells her, “It’s okay if your… your ex-tra-po-la-tion isn’t right. I like reading pretty much anything I can get my hands on.” Blushing, she appends, “T-thank you.”

“You are welcome,” she murmurs in return. Mayhap it is not so bad.

Elfnein is a far better child—and she herself is, at least, a moderately better parent (and she has Maria to fall back on).

She can do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review!


	5. 2.05 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner starts off quiet and stiff.

### FIVE

“More potatoes?”

“Yes, please.”

Mrs. Maria scoops another spoonful of potatoes onto her plate, saying affectionately, “Tsubasa _loves_ potatoes, so we always add extra whenever we cook something that contains them.”

At the head of the table, Mrs. Tsubasa blushes. Elfnein doesn’t understand why—potatoes _are_ pretty good, especially with curry.

Mrs. Maria sighs a little forlornly, and Mrs. Tsubasa instantly looks towards her in concern. Shrugging, Mrs. Maria complains, “You two will have the whole day to yourselves tomorrow, while _I_ will be stuck at work.”

That catches her interest.

“What are we going to do?” she asks Mrs. Tsubasa before she loses her courage.

It’s okay, though, because she knows that Mrs. Tsubasa has anxiety, too. They haven’t talked about it, but she’s seen the way Mrs. Tsubasa goes overly-formal when she gets anxious, using it like… like a defense mechanism. It honestly makes her feel a lot better, knowing that she’s not the only one who’s awkward.

“We will drop off Maria at the train station first,” Mrs. Tsubasa says, absent-mindedly tapping her fingers against her glass, “then I think we shall pick up a few things for you, then briefly stop by the shop, and upon our return I will show you the rest of the grounds.”

Exploring sounds like a _great_ idea. She’d figured out how to spot the doors in the walls earlier, and the bedrooms have _mini-rooms_ inside them for the actual bed, so she really wants to know how everything else looks like.

It’s basically like a real-life maze with the grounds of a castle, from what she’d managed to glimpse in the rain.

“Don’t have too much fun while I’m away,” Mrs. Maria pouts.

Now _that_ is something that had surprised her, earlier. With Papa and Carol… well, Papa had been really busy with his work, and Carol had tended to commandeer their adventures, so it’s—it’s _different_ , the fact that Mrs. Maria wants to play with her.

But it makes her feel warm and cuddly inside, yearning for something that’s been missing ever since… ever since Papa died.

So she says, half reassuring Mrs. Maria and half reassuring herself, “But we’re going to explore the house—t-together, when you… when you get home… right?”

And Mrs. Maria beams at her, with Mrs. Tsubasa relaxing into a smile, and it’s worth all the anxiousness and sad reminders that pop up every five seconds.

Definitely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a great burst of inspiration for Arc IV (Carol's arc) today, so I hope to publish that soon --- though I must warn everyone that it's darker in tone.
> 
> Anyway, please review!


	6. 2.06 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it's easier, sometimes it's not.

### SIX

Sunlight breaks through the clouds and the trees.

It reminds her of countless mornings watching the morning sun disperse the last of the rain clouds.

“M-Mrs. Tsubasa?” Elfnein’s voice reaches her.

“Over here,” she calls back. She takes a deep breath of cleansed air to fortify herself; she remembers having to brace herself for conferences with her father and the other clan elders, but _this_ is a matter wholly dissimilar.

When Elfnein finds her, she praises, “You have a good sense of direction. Goodness knows the house can be like a maze when it wants to be.”

Elfnein frowns, echoing, “When it wants to be? Is the house alive?” Her doubtful tone gives away her skepticism.

“In a manner of speaking,” she chuckles. “Perhaps you will see in time.”

“…Okay. Well, um, Mrs. Maria wants me to tell you that you should—you should, um, hurry up, or else she’ll be late to work.”

She glances at her watch; it is only six past the hour, but she knows how Maria gets about these things. “Let us not keep her waiting, then,” she replies, and gulps down the last of her cold tea. “Are you set?”

Elfnein nods; she is dressed sensibly, in black pants and a black shirt under a particularly bright blue sweater.

Ah. Black is the mourning color of the West.

Nodding approvingly, she suggests as they return to the main hall, “A scarf and a pair of mittens would not be remiss.”

“Okay!” Elfnein dashes away to her room.

“Is that you, Tsubasa?” Maria finds her blinking after Elfnein. “There you are! Are you ready to go yet?”

She turns to Maria, humming absent-mindedly and going towards the main entrance.

“Tsubasa.”

“Yes?” She pauses to look back at Maria, puzzled.

Maria points at her hand, “Where do you think you’re taking that cup? And are you sure you have everything? All your papers, notes, wallet, keys, glasses?”

She blushes, hastily backtracking to the kitchen, leaving her cup in the sink and picking up her satchel from where she left it on the kitchen island when she came home from work Friday afternoon. With the commotion of having Elfnein come home with them, Maria probably overlooked it—which is good, because that saved her from yet another lecture.

“Now I am ready,” she says, standing before Maria, who crosses her arms and looks thoroughly unimpressed.

“Me, too!” Elfnein comes running up to them, and Maria turns to Elfnein.

Maria’s stern look softens; she reaches forward to brush some lint off Elfnein’s shoulder, mentioning, “I like the color of your sweater. Very appropriate for the winter season, don’t you think?”

“I didn’t like it at first… but now I do. It grew on me, I guess.”

At the car, Elfnein follows Maria into the backseat.

She supposes it is just as well—Maria is far more comfortable with conversation than she.

“Mrs. Maria, do you think the house is alive?”

“The house? It’s certainly old… but I’m not sure, honestly. It looks like a regular house to me. Why?”

“Oh. I dunno….”

She smiles in relief. There _is_ something she can speak about, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review!


	7. 2.07 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria has some introspective thoughts.

### SEVEN

She stays by the doors, waving to Tsubasa and Elfnein on the platform until they become little pinpricks in the distance; it’s pointless, she knows, but it’s the gesture of it that matters.

It makes her feel a little bit better.

The turnabout makes her nostalgic: years and years ago, it was _her_ on the platform, and Kirika and Shirabe on the train. Years and years ago, it was _Tsubasa_ going to Lydian, and she stayed behind. Isn’t it funny, how life goes in circles?

Circles that are too wide to comprehend at first glance. She would never have imagined such a present when she was seven years old, clinging to Serena as her only guiding light.

Anyway, that’s some pretty heavy thinking, which doesn’t serve much purpose—things like _fate_ and _destiny_ and _the future_ are unknowable, after all.


	8. 2.08 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria gets a surprise at work, ft. Kirika and Shirabe.

### EIGHT

She learned music backwards—began with bits and pieces of songs heard on the radio or played by street musicians, learning by observation and hands-on practice (whenever she managed to sneak in the time between assignments). Ended with theory, eight years after she had first picked up the art.

On the other hand, Miss Akemi built a solid foundation, from the ground up. That’s how she teaches her students, too. Puts them through basic but rigorous exercises before letting them anywhere near the final score. Nevertheless, she’d been amendable to changing the lesson plan a bit.

Perhaps Miss Kaname is right: Miss Akemi’s bark is worse than her bite, though she would _never_ say that to Miss Akemi’s face.

“Mrs. Kazanari?” Speak of the devil.

“Yes, Miss Akemi?” She turns in her chair and straightens up—and finds Kirika and Shirabe waving at her.

Gesturing behind her, Miss Akemi states, “You have visitors. For future reference, please notify the office beforehand when you expect guests.”

Kirika laughs sheepishly. “Sorry ‘bout that,” she tells Miss Akemi, whose expression remains stern. “We just wanted to see Maria....”

“And check out her new job,” Shirabe adds under her breath.

“We are so sorry, Miss Akemi,” Maria bows, “it won’t happen again.”

Miss Akemi sighs, a bit reluctant, and waves it off just as Miss Kaname joins them.

“Oh, hello there! I hope Miss Akemi isn’t giving you guys trouble,” Miss Kaname beams at Kirika and Shirabe, drawing smiles from them in return (and an eye-roll from Miss Akemi). “Actually, you both seem rather familiar…?”

“You were the student teacher for Mr. Arima in our final year,” Shirabe supplies. “We were in your intermediate ballet class.”

Nodding enthusiastically, Miss Kaname exclaims, “Yes, I remember! You were such good students.”

“ _I_ was a good student. Kiri… was a memorable student.”

“H-hey! Not in front of our teacher, Shirabe!” Kirika turns red, shooting a pleading look towards Maria.

So she stands, taking her papers in hand, and cuts in, “Kirika and Shirabe have been out of the country for the better part of the past year, and they’ve only just returned. I’d like to have them to myself a while before the rest of our family descends upon them, if you don’t mind, Miss Kaname.” She shrugs, smiling.

“Of course, of course! Come on, Miss Akemi. Have fun, all!” Miss Kaname waves back at them as she drags an even grumpier Miss Akemi away with her.

Well then. She hopes she hasn’t gotten on Miss Akemi’s bad side; it’s hard to tell.

Kirika and Shirabe wait until they’re in an empty corridor to squeeze her in a bear hug, exclaiming in tandem, “Maria! We missed you!”

“And I missed you, too. I am so, _so relieved_ to have you home again.” She hugs them even more tightly against her, idly wishing she didn’t have to let go eventually.

Slipping out of her grasp with a sly smile, Shirabe says, “We left Chris at the airport.”

“But I don’t think she cares anymore—we’ve given her the slip so many times, she stopped worrying somewhere around Ireland,” Kirika muses, grinning up at her.

“Not so, Kiri,” Shirabe counters with a raised finger, “she has to worry, because she knows that if Maria were to call and Chris didn’t know where we were, Maria would kill her. Chris is probably doing everything she can to find us before she has to resort to calling anyone here.”

“Girls,” she chides.

Pouting, Kirika grumbles to Shirabe, “Looks live we’ve got to call her.”

“Yes, and you should also apologize to Chris, who has been so kind so as to be your chaperone this entire time,” she scolds them. She’d honestly forgotten how much of a handful they could be—although they are adults, Kirika and Shirabe have an uncurbed tendency for mischief.

Even so… it gladdens her. That, after everything, they’re still so young and _free_ at heart.

It’s what she wants for _Elfnein_.

“We’re with Maria. Sorry. Bye.” Shirabe hangs up, looking expectantly at her.

Then again… she’d rather that Elfnein _not_ be quite as troublesome as her older sisters.

Relenting, she sighs, “Good enough.”

“We’ll apologize properly later, Maria,” Kirika reassures her. “In person.”

“Okay then, I’ll hold you to it! Now, tell me how the last leg of your journey went—we have some time before the bell rings.”

“Sure! Oh, and let me take these for you.” Kirika takes the now-crumpled papers from her; Shirabe promptly takes them in turn, muttering that she doesn’t trust Kiri not to lose them somewhere.

Laughing, Kirika rolls her eyes and says, “ _Anyway_ , I want to tell you about our adventure in South Korea, first! It was our last stop before taking the international plan at….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Madoka's a ballet teacher, eh? Speak of the devil, eh? Also Arima following in the steps of his mother and aunt. Lol, I couldn't help myself.
> 
> Anyway. Whenever ShiraKiri are involved, my chapters end up longer. They must be pulling the strings, demanding more screen time from me. In upcoming chapters we'll finally see Chris, too. Chris, though... I think she's going to be hard for me to write; still, she'll give some insight to HibiMiku plus Carol's side of things.
> 
> Please review!


	9. 2.09 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She would not call herself superstitious, but history has _weight_ , does it not?

### NINE

“Cool,” Elfnein breathes, mouth agape.

Tsubasa puffs up, a smidgeon of pride that she allows herself; after all, she _has_ put in uncountable hours of toil to bring this castle in the sky down to the earth. This is her livelihood now.

“Can you name any?” she asks, leading Elfnein down the central path.

“Pansies, candytuft, and cyclamen,” Elfnein immediately rattles off, pointing to various patches in their vicinity.

Nodding, she explains, “They are winter blooms, and a staple for many bouquet and other flower arrangements, so I planted a large crop of each this season. We shall see how well they grow and sell.”

“And those?” Elfnein points towards a section of rather tall plants, visible in the distance, though it will be a several more minutes before they near that particular section of the farm.

“Iceland poppy. They can grow quite tall; nothing like sunflowers, but still a decent size, up to around my knee.”

Elfnein bounds ahead—apparently infinitely more at ease here with nature than she had been in the shops earlier.

Perhaps she will mention it to Maria later.

It is not as if she does not understand: people have the capacity for betrayal. Plants, trees, even the stars in the sky—they do not. Nature is impartial, reliable in its chaos; how could people possibly compare to that?

But Elfnein is still a child.

“How many acres _are_ there?” Elfnein calls back to her, standing on her tiptoes and peering towards the horizon.

“About nine acres, though only half of the land is for flower-growing.”

She catches up in a few strides, and Elfnein turns; her expression settles into something… _pained_.

Quietly, Elfnein shares, “There was a disease in the crops. The master of the farm caught it, and a lot of people in the village, too, so he asked Papa for a cure, even though the village doctor had told the master that he didn’t have a chance, that it was too late to save someone like him…. I don’t think anyone in the village liked the master.”

“Were they angry at your father?” she dares ask, but she keeps her hands clasped tightly behind her back.

Hated masters.

Hated clan leaders.

Elfnein shrugs; their eyes meet fleetingly, and Elfnein angles her head down again.

She lets the silence linger between them as they walk. She does not know how to dispel it—it, her erstwhile shield.

“Do you think the land hated the master, too?”

She glances at Elfnein through the corner of her eye, but the child is looking at the daises now. Hate is such a strong, ugly word.

Elfnein elaborates, “Because you said that houses are alive, and if they are, then shouldn’t farms be alive, too? Any property, I guess.”

“Ah.” Despite herself, she smiles. “Many would call this superstition.”

“I don’t mind!” Elfnein looks at her then, earnest. It is the earnestness of any child still willing to believe in the imagination. “Please, Mrs. Tsubasa? I _really_ want to know.”

Chuckling, she gives in.

She gestures to the fields around them, to the forest bordering the west, and the house to the north. Elfnein follows her sweeping motion with eager eyes. Who would think that Tsubasa Kazanari would ever speak of such things outside the sanctity of her mind?

“They are old. They have seen many, many people live and die. We are an old family, as well. We have lived and died here for many, many generations. Almost too many, I would say.

“Kazanari heads of house traditionally remain bound to the estate their entire lives. Some of those heads lived long years, some did not. Most have left… an impression.”

On dark nights, when she first discovered the truth of her parentage, she felt those _impressions_ become _specters_.

But that was then. She knows better now.

“They are one with the house. An amalgamation, a merging of the countless moments witnessed by both the building and the people. That is why I say the house is alive.

“On the other hand, the land itself is its own entity. That is why we must treat the land with care, with respect. I would not be surprised if the land were to retaliate against… heavy hands.”

She spreads her hands in a half-shrug.

Elfnein nods, clearly awed, and asks, “Why doesn’t Mrs. Maria know?”

Blushing, she admits, “Because it embarrasses me, sometimes. And I have spent a long time… running away from my history.”

“Oh… I understand. I didn’t like telling the others at the orphanage what Papa had done for a living, because it… it’d… you know.”

Izak Malus Dienheim. In a roundabout manner, his experiments had killed him.

The child is better off not knowing the true extent of her father’s experiments.

Her hand rests on Elfnein’s shoulder—lightly, as unobtrusively as possible.

Elfnein smiles up at her, only a touch of sadness lingering.

“I like it here.”


	10. 2.10 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The extended family, part 1, ft. Chris.

### TEN

There’s a person leaning against an unfamiliar car.

She lags her steps so that she ends up behind Mrs. Tsubasa, because the crossed arms, dark sunglasses, and grim expression make the person look _intimidating_.

Odd, though, that Mrs. Tsubasa inclines her head in acknowledgement.

“What’s the point,” the stranger growls, “of you having a cell phone _if_ _you_ _never answer_?”

Mrs. Tsubasa stops just in front of the stranger, chiding, “Is that any way to greet me after being gone for so long?”

“Tsubasa. Great to see ya. How’ve you been?” the stranger replies with a heavy layer of sarcasm.

Mrs. Tsubasa sighs, “Yukine. Please, let us step inside for a proper conversation.” She turns to Elfnein, a barely-there smile on her face.

Skittering past the stranger’s curious stare— _is_ the stranger staring? It’s kind of hard to tell with the sunglasses—Elfnein enters the house first. She takes off her shoes, hastily arranges them in their corner, and is just about to flee to her bedroom when Mrs. Tsubasa stops her.

“Maria will be back late, and I imagine a snack should be in order after our long day. You as well, I would think,” Mrs. Tsubasa says, glancing at the grumpy stranger.

“ _Heck yes!_ Airport food’s not filling _at all_ , and I’ve been running myself ragged since I got back, trying to hunt down those troublesome sisters of your wife—in fact, they only just called me _ten minutes_ ago, informing me that they’re with Maria now. Tch!”

Either the stranger’s go-to mood is grumpiness, or they’ve had a really long day.

She chooses the seat to the left of Mrs. Tsubasa, since the stranger is, apparently, a welcome guest and therefore deserves to sit in the right hand place. And she’s proven right: the stranger takes the seat to the right without any hesitation, just plopping down with a loud huff while Mrs. Tsubasa asks if they want anything in particular to drink.

“Red would be nice.”

“W-water, p-please,” she requests in the smallest audible voice possible that’s not a whisper.

But it attracts the stranger’s attention nonetheless; the stranger even goes so far as to take off their sunglasses.

Lavender eyes look at her critically—measuring her up, probably.

“Tsubasa’s kid, eh?” the stranger mutters, low enough that Mrs. Tsubasa doesn’t hear over the sounds of the kitchen, but Elfnein hears it.

Is she supposed to respond? From Mrs. Tsubasa’s actions, they’re both supposed to wait for some sort of signal—some sort of ritual?—to talk.

But she’s getting fidgety with the silence, and the stranger is even starting to _yawn_.

“I feel kinda sorry for you, kid,” the stranger mutters again, clearly addressing her even though their eyes are closed. “Tsubasa’s tried her hardest, but she can’t really shake off all the old habits. _Decorum_ and all that rot drilled into her head….”

“Um.”

The stranger shrugs dismissively.

Finally, Mrs. Tsubasa comes back, a tray of drinks in one hand and a tray of plates in the other.

Surprisingly, the stranger doesn’t down her glass as soon as she gets it; instead, she waits in seeming patience for Mrs. Tsubasa to give Elfnein her food and sit down herself.

Mrs. Tsubasa lifts her glass of water, and the stranger does the same, so Elfnein figures she should do the same. “To family,” Mrs. Tsubasa toasts.

“To family,” Elfnein and the stranger echo. She remembers seeing similar things at village feasts; maybe this person is someone important enough that Mrs. Tsubasa feels the need for ceremonies and stuff.

After a few minutes, Mrs. Tsubasa breaks the silence.

“Elfnein,” Mrs. Tsubasa _intones_ , making her meet Mrs. Tsubasa’s gaze, “this is Chris Yukine, adopted daughter of my—my brother Genjuurou Kazanari.” Her mouth is stern, even when she turns to Miss Yukine. “Chris, this is Elfnein Malus Dienheim, adopted daughter of Maria and I.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Elfnein,” Miss Yukine says without a hint of her previous petulance. She bows her head.

There’s something about this conversation that’s going over her head, she’s sure.

“L-likewise, Miss Yukine,” she responds, and bows her head, too.

“Call me Chris—or ‘Miss’ Chris, whatever.”

Mrs. Tsubasa sighs, this time with a touch of real frustration, and says, “Had I known you were coming, Yukine, I would have prepared adequately.”

Miss Chris shrugs, rolling her eyes and taking a big gulp of her drink.

“It was s’posed to be a surprise. Then, of course, the twin terrors ditched me at the airport and high-tailed it to who knows where.”

That makes Mrs. Tsubasa smile and shake her head. “Indeed, they can be quite the handful. I am not sure how you managed so long in their company,” she says; the tension seems to seep away, returning the familiar Mrs. Tsubasa.

Miss Chris turns to Elfnein, explaining, “I’ve been traveling ‘round the world with Kirika and Shirabe, family of Maria, since April of last year. I just got back this morning.”

Elfnein nods (she’s glad she has a mouthful of ham sandwich to keep her from replying with something silly like, “Oh”).

“Go on,” Mrs. Tsubasa encourages, “I have not heard from you since Greece, I believe. Quite the adventures you have had, I am sure.”

“More like _mis_ adventures, if you recall my traveling companions. For example,….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning!
> 
> I actually wrote this yesterday in an attempt to keep myself from freaking out, lol. That might be why it turned out longer than I expected. I also came up with a title for Arc IV: "Alphabet Soup." I sort of want to publish it now, but updates for that one would have to be much less frequent --- maybe one a week; alternatively, I could write at least half of it and then update daily...? Mm, I'll think about it.
> 
> Please review! ^^


	11. 2.11 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stare down, some awkward conversation, and a good night. Just family fumbling around.

### ELEVEN

“A giant sleepover,” Tsubasa deadpans, staring down an equally deadpan Shirabe. “No.”

“Yes!” Kirika quickly retorts; she has her “begging” face on.

“No.”

“Yes!”

“Yes,” she cuts in before Tsubasa can reject the suggestion again. “Of course you all are welcome to stay the night at our home—” she ignores Tsubasa’s exasperated look—“ _but_ we actually have enough bedrooms for everyone, so I’m afraid it won’t exactly be a sleepover.”

Kirika pumps her free arm, looking delighted; Shirabe smirks triumphantly at Tsubasa.

Chris, meanwhile, is still too busy stuffing herself with dinner to bother responding to the others’ argument.

Elfnein looks understandably overwhelmed. _That_ in particular hadn’t gone as planned; she had hoped to have more time to ease Elfnein into their lives before throwing in yet more people… but it can’t be helped now.

Since Shirabe is focused on her stare down with Tsubasa—and of course Tsubasa can’t stand a perceived threat to her authority in her own home—Kirika turns her attention to Elfnein, who looks panicked for a brief second at the sudden scrutiny.

“Hey, relax,” Kirika raises her free hand and even manages to give a tiny wave with the hand around Shirabe’s shoulders, “us blondes have to stick together, y’know? Plus, it’s my responsibility as your older sister to take care of you!”

Elfnein glances at Maria in askance: “B-but… I thought y-you were _Mrs. Maria’s_ s-sisters, n-not….”

“Well,” she begins to explain, but—

“Details,” Kirika shrugs and waves her free hand dismissively. “We’re, like, something in between, I guess. Sort of Maria’s little sisters, sort of Maria’s daughters.”

It’s clear that Elfnein’s trying to figure out how that works.

Maria raises her voice to clarify properly, “We are not blood-related—at least, not for many, many generations back—but we’ve formed a family unit of sorts. My own adoptive mother took us all under her wing, and when she died I stepped into the role of caretaker. Thus, I would consider Kirika and Shirabe my younger sisters. On their side, however, Kirika and Shirabe are engaged, so they don’t consider each other as sisters—”

“—Don’t think too hard about it, kid,” Chris cuts in, apparently finally finished eating. “You’ll figure out how everyone fits eventually. Labels aren’t always adequate, y’know.”

Shirabe nods in agreement, and Kirika shrugs again, laughing.

Tsubasa raises her glass, prompting everyone to follow suit. “A toast to the bonds of family chosen,” she affirms. “To family.”

“To family!”

With the end toast out of the way, everyone clears the table.

Maria glances at the clock in the kitchen as she carries in a stack of plates and exclaims, “It’s eleven, already!” She turns to Elfnein, who has followed her with a tray of glasses. “It’s high time for bed. Leave the dishes here, Tsubasa and I will wash them later—or perhaps I’ll have Kirika and Shirabe do them as punishment for their antics earlier—and get ready for bed, okay?”

Looking relieved, Elfnein doesn’t utter any protest as she scurries to her bedroom.

She sighs.

Because of all the commotion—and, admittedly, her own delight at having Kirika and Shirabe home—she hasn’t had a chance to give Elfnein the attention she deserves.

On the other hand, Elfnein spent the entire day with Tsubasa, so that gives her some comfort.

Tsubasa enters the kitchen, looking around.

“Elfnein’s getting ready for bed,” she tells Tsubasa. “Can you take care of things out here? I want to tuck her in.”

“Certainly. Please tell her I said good night, and that I will check on her in a few minutes.”

“Will do.” She pecks Tsubasa’s lips and hurries to Elfnein’s room.

At Elfnein’s room, she pauses to knock and wait for permission to enter. She can barely hear Elfnein’s soft response over the clamor in the living room.

Sliding the door open, she takes in the sight of Elfnein sitting up in bed, clutching her stuffed shark.

“Hey. All set?”

Elfnein nods.

“May I sit with you?”

Elfnein nods again and lies on her side to face Maria.

They sit in silence for a few moments. She’s not sure what she wants to say—she wants to apologize, to explain, to reassure, but she also doesn’t want to put more pressure on Elfnein, who looks so _displaced_.

“I’m sorry,” she says at last, meeting Elfnein’s sleepy gaze. “I meant to have more time to… ease you into the idea of an extended family.”

Elfnein tilts her head further into her pillow. “It’s okay,” comes the muffled answer. “I know you love them. They’re important to you.”

“They are _yours_ now, too. Your cousin Chris and your… aunts-slash-older sisters Kirika and Shirabe, even if it sounds weird.”

“…Aunts sound nice.”

She chuckles, “Okay. ‘Aunt Kirika and Aunt Shirabe’ has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Mhm.”

Elfnein’s more asleep than awake now; maybe she should leave this for the morning, instead.

She stands and tucks Elfnein’s blankets in a little tighter around her feet, then goes to the door before murmuring, “Tsubasa and I will be up with the rest for another hour or so if you need anything, darling, and Tsubasa will be by in a few minutes to check on you.

“Good night, from both of us, Elfnein. Sweet dreams.”

“…Good night, Mrs. Maria. And good night to Mrs. Tsubasa, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hm. I'm not sure I like how this turned out; juggling so many characters was definitely a struggle all throughout.
> 
> Please review!


	12. 2.12 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She knows that Maria does not _require_ their approval--rather, Maria _wants_ it, because they are family.
> 
> It almost makes her feel out of place.

### TWELVE

“Kid’s knocked out?” Chris asks when Maria returns.

Maria nods, “Pretty much. I think the day really wore her out, what with all the walking around town and the farm with Tsubasa.” Maria joins her on the leftmost couch, clasping her hand.

She says, “Meeting all of you probably exhausted her more than the rest of the day’s activities,” with a significant look towards Chris and Kirika. Shirabe, at least, had appreciated the valor of space and patience.

“Well, _I_ wanted to see what kind of personality your kid has. We don’t want another Carol on our hands, after all,” Chris explains with a sour expression at the mention of Hibiki’s daughter.

“Regardless, I will thank you to leave my child alone,” she warns. “Do not overstep your boundaries, Yukine.”

Kirika whispers none-too-subtly, “Whoa. Mama bear Tsubasa.”

“No. Tsubasa is too emotionally clumsy and distant to be a mother; she must be the father figure,” Shirabe counters, smirking at Tsubasa.

Resisting the urge to frown, she retorts, “ _Or_ I am a _parent_ , plain and simple.”

“Now, now, everyone,” Maria scolds, “behave yourselves. I know it’s very new and you’ve only just gotten back and we’re all tired, but let’s keep it calm, okay?”

“Agreed.”

“’Kay.”

“Okay.”

“Sure thing.”

Maria nods once, and tugs on Tsubasa’s hand.

She lets go to wrap her arm around Maria’s waist instead, mirroring Kirika and Shirabe on the couch across them. The tension in Maria’s body gives away how anxious she is about the _real_ matter at hand; all this idle talk is undoubtedly grating on Maria’s nerves, because she wants to _know_ , to be _reassured_ , that her standing with Kirika and Shirabe has not changed.

Ah, her wife.

Kirika is correct: Maria is not quite their mother, but not quite their older sister, either.

Maria is their guardian, their role model, their caretaker; it is a bond that goes both ways, for just as they seek approval from Maria, Maria seeks approval from them.

That reciprocation—that was lacking from her father ( _both_ her fathers).

“Pleasantries aside, we should resolve a few of the more serious matters before the hour grows even later.”

There.

She has done her part.

Maria rolls her eyes at Tsubasa, but she says, “Right. I just… want to know that you are okay with this. I mean, I know we talked about it briefly before you went on your trip, but it’s _real_ now, and I just—”

“—It’s okay, Maria,” Kirika interrupts, smiling with a touch of sadness. “We can’t keep you all to ourselves… we learned that when you met Tsubasa. And, well, we’re adults now, me and Shirabe, and we’re getting started with our own lives, you know?”

“It wouldn’t be fair of us to keep you from other children who need you just as much as we needed you when we were little,” Shirabe adds.

Maria has tears in her eyes.

Letting go of Maria, she watches as Maria crosses, as Kirika and Shirabe stand, as they hug each other in a reaffirmation of their familial bonds.

No matter how much time passes, Maria will always be a parental figure in their eyes, and they will always be children in Maria’s eyes.

“Makes you wish _we_ had someone like Maria in our lives when we were kids, doesn’t it? Makes _me_ sort of regret running away from Genjuurou when I was twelve,” Chris mutters, also watching them, though there is no melancholy or resentment in her tone.

It does.

But—“I have her now. And, Elfnein willing, we will be there for Elfnein.”

“So will we.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am pleasantly surprised at how this chapter went. Also, I went back and changed a little bit of Maria's good night scene with Elfnein last chapter, since it was bugging me and I had completely forgotten that Maria promised to say good night on behalf of Tsubasa.
> 
> Please review!


	13. 2.13 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She can't fall asleep.

### THIRTEEN

She hears a soft knock, and then the door slides open with barely a whisper.

“Elfnein?” Mrs. Tsubasa whispers.

She doesn’t respond. Her eyelids are heavy, her breathing is even, and her thoughts have finally slowed down; she thinks she is on the brink of falling asleep. Still, it’s nice that Mrs. Tsubasa finally came to check on her. It’s a little ritual they’ve built up: Mrs. Maria tucks her in and a few minutes later, after the lights are out, Mrs. Tsubasa comes to whisper her own goodnight.

“Rest well, Elfnein.” The door closes shut.

With that reassurance, she feels that she will slip into sleep easily.

But she doesn’t.

Her thoughts are loud again, wondering about Carol and about Miss Chris and about Miss Kirika and Miss Shirabe.

And Papa, too.

Carol honestly didn’t care as much about her as Miss Kirika and Miss Shirabe care about Mrs. Maria, or as much as Mrs. Tsubasa and Miss Chris care about each other. Carol only adored Papa, and Papa had always been too busy to pay much attention to either of them….

She supposes that Mrs. Tsubasa could be a bit like Papa in that regard—distant though well-meaning. But Mrs. Tsubasa makes an honest effort, right? Even though Mrs. Tsubasa’s anxiety visibly troubles her, _clearly_ making it difficult for her to interact with Elfnein (who understands, really; talking to Mrs. Maria and Mrs. Tsubasa makes her throat clam up), Mrs. Tsubasa _doesn’t_ give up. Mrs. Tsubasa is a very solid presence in her life now. Not like Papa.

And Mrs. Maria, even though she already has people she’s attached to, very obviously wants to be in Elfnein’s life, wants to take care of her, wants the best for her—everything a parent should be, right? Mrs. Maria isn’t going to abandon her like Carol and Papa did.

Right?

She sighs.

In her mind, she visualizes a nice little pasture—full of flowers this time, like the ones she saw today. A meadow. And a little fence, made of stone like the ones she used to see back on German farms. And then, a herd of sheep, fluffy white with content smiles. Their only obstacle is the fence, which doesn’t bother them at all, because all they have to do is jump over it. Easy as pie.

She counts them.

Gets all the way to thirteen.

But then she remembers that Carol left her in the middle of the night.

And it scares her. It scares her enough to scramble out of bed, her shark plush clutched tightly in her arms, and leave her bedroom.

The corridor is dark, with only a shaft of moonlight cutting the floor, but she knows that Mrs. Maria’s and Mrs. Tsubasa’s room is directly across from hers.

She just has to—just has to cross a few feet, slide the door open and—and ask to sleep with them. Like a child. Like a little kid.

She’s not a little kid. But her chest and throat are tight, and she’s trembling, and she really wants someone to comfort her, to tell her that it’s going to be okay.

“Elfnein?”

It’s Mrs. Tsubasa, approaching from further down the hall. She looks surprised.

“Elfnein?” Mrs. Tsubasa repeats, kneeling in front of her. “Are you crying?”

“I-I’m n-not!” But she is. She hadn’t noticed.

Mrs. Tsubasa’s expression looks like someone just hurt her—because she cares, right? She cares, and—

“P-please d-d-don’t g-go,” she whispers.

“May I hug you, Elfnein?” Mrs. Tsubasa whispers back, hands reaching out.

She nods.

And Mrs. Tsubasa’s embrace is nothing like Papa’s bear hugs or even Mrs. Maria’s tight hugs. It’s a light touch, almost afraid, but it’s _real_. Her tears subside.

“Can I… can I sleep with you tonight?” she asks into Mrs. Tsubasa’s shoulder. She wants to take it back as soon as she’s said it, because what if Mrs. Tsubasa says no? What if Mrs. Maria gets mad? What if—

“Of course, of course my darling child.” Mrs. Tsubasa’s voice breaks at first, like Papa’s used to whenever he cried.

It makes her feel better, somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't supposed to be sad. But it turned out like this. I'm so sorry.
> 
> At least I made it before midnight....


	14. 2.14 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parallels between Maria's past and present.

### FOURTEEN

Elfnein looks half her age, clinging to Tsubasa’s hand and clutching a stuffed animal in her other arm and looking so lost, so afraid. And Tsubasa looks frightened, too—frightened and _angry_ , the type of anger that means she can’t do anything to change the way things are.

(She had only seen it once, on her own behalf when they couldn’t find Nastassja’s body and Ver refused to tell them where he had left her. Tsubasa had been furious and upset that they couldn’t do anything for Maria, Kirika, and Shirabe to set their mother at rest.)

“Come here, Elfnein,” she says, opening her arms, because she knows both Elfnein and Tsubasa are too afraid to move.

Elfnein nearly bolts to her side, easily clambering up on the low futon and settling into the space beneath the blankets that Maria cleared for her.

Tsubasa approaches, looking a bit guilty and torn now, and she murmurs, “Maria… I promised… is it—?”

“Of course it’s okay,” she interrupts.

“R-really?” Elfnein looks up at her, so hopeful yet a little uneasy.

She thinks back to when her mother still lived—before the madness—and she and Kirika and Shirabe would climb into bed with their mother on lonely nights, or simply because they wanted to be together. She remembers afterwards, when Nastassja became sterner with them, Kirika and Shirabe would sneak into Maria’s room for comfort. And even later, when all was said and done and she was let out of the forced confinement—they all slept together for weeks.

“Yes,” she says, blinking away tears. “Kirika and Shirabe used to climb into bed with me in the middle of the night, even when they were fourteen… and when they were older. We used to do so often with our own mother, too.

“It’s okay,” she reiterates, pulling Elfnein close, “it’s always okay with me and Tsubasa.”

She can feel Elfnein relax, leaving her body limp in Maria’s arms.

Tsubasa approaches gingerly, the only one left.

“C’mon, you big softie. The more, the merrier, you know.” She points her chin to Elfnein’s other side.

Later, in the morning, she’ll make sure to tell Tsubasa how proud she is of her.

On the way, Tsubasa turns off the lamp they have, and joins them. There’s some awkward maneuvering so that they’re all lying down comfortably, but then it’s perfect.

Herself, Elfnein, and Tsubasa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story's time is so off from real time. Like, it's night for them but almost noon for me, and they're in the third week of December, lol. I forget they're not in the same time frame as me.
> 
> Please review!


	15. 2.15 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsubasa has an early morning conversation with ShiraKiri.

### FIFTEEN

“Ma-ria~ Tsu-ba-sa~ Are you guys decent?” Kirika’s voice filters in through the panels.

She slides the door open to say, “Hush. Let them sleep in—for all of the fifteen minutes they have left before the alarm sounds.” She closes the door behind her and motions for Kirika to follow.

Once they reach the kitchen, Kirika can no longer contain her curiosity, blurting out, “Who’s ‘they’?” It makes Shirabe look up from her intense contemplation of her coffee.

They are Maria’s family. Surely, they most of all would understand, yes?

“Elfnein spent the night with us. She and Maria still sleep.”

Kirika has no reply to that, it seems.

Shirabe closes her eyes, gesturing to the teapot on the stove. “We made you tea,” she says.

“Oh. Thank you.” She reaches for the top cupboard for a glass, pours herself a healthy amount of tea, and takes her usual seat at the kitchen’s table, with them on her left. She wonders why Kirika and Shirabe are being so quiet—but it is not her place to ask.

A faint memory of Miku Kohinata comes to mind: _“Hm, I would say that Kirika and Shirabe are Maria’s daughters. From a previous marriage, of course.”_

It makes her chuckle, because it is an apt description of how she feels.

Tsubasa Kazanari, pseudo-step-parent of the twin terrors.

“Uh, are you okay? Did we accidentally mess up your tea or something?” Kirika looks at her in askance.

She takes a sip of her tea—hot, bitter, and refreshing. She shakes her head, “No, it is done well. Perhaps a little more concentrated than usual, but definitely within the realm of acceptable.”

“Good.” Shirabe pushes her coffee towards Kirika, who takes an eager gulp and gasps, “Hot! Hot!” when it scalds her tongue.

While Kirika frets over her burnt tongue, Shirabe enquires, “Would it be okay if we spent some time with Elfnein?”

“Hm.” She takes another sip of her tea.

It is… a reasonable request—but she wants to keep Elfnein as far away from the world as possible. She wants to be protective and respectful of Elfnein, in the way her biological father never was, in the way her father could not be. It is not her place to force Elfnein to meet strangers before she is prepared.

Yesterday was enough.

“Only if she is willing,” she responds at last. “You will respect her wishes.”

Kirika squirms, muttering, “It’s weird to see you and Maria as someone else’s parents.”

“Don’t, Kiri,” Shirabe takes one of Kirika’s hands into her own, “we’re independent adults. We should be supportive of them.”

Frankly, it takes her by surprise. She had not thought that they regarded her as another quasi-parent-figure; she knew they respected her, of course, but this… it gladdens her. It also saddens her, for she has never been as close to Shirabe and Kirika as she could have been.

Has she already followed in her father’s footsteps?

“Maria will never forget you,” she finds herself telling them. “You are too precious.”

Kirika and Shirabe stare at her.

“Thanks,” Shirabe says.

“Yeah.” Kirika smiles. “I guess it just takes a little getting used to.”


	16. 2.16 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not even breakfast and things are already hectic.

### SIXTEEN

Miss Chris grunts, “G’morning, kid,” when they pass by each other in the corridor. The drooping gaze and shuffling steps tell her that Miss Chris is definitely not a morning person.

“G-good morning, Miss Chris!” She watches Miss Chris drag her feet to the first fork in the hallways and pause. “Take the left, Miss Chris,” she calls out, just in case Miss Chris really is lost.

“Thanks, kid. I hate this house—I always get lost. Though, that might be because I always choose to go right whenever I come to a fork. Tch,” Miss Chris mutters, turning left.

“Well, I don’t think the house is built like a maze,” she tells herself as she enters her bedroom, “so sticking to one direction probably won’t lead to any major landmark…. Anyway, that’s kind of a funny habit….”

Not that she’s one to judge, of course! She used to collect _paper_ for a hobby, so… yeah.

By the time she makes it from her bedroom to the kitchen, the house is noticeably awake: Miss Chris is gesticulating wildly in the middle of a conversation with Mrs. Tsubasa, who nods along and sips her drink while also keeping an eye on Miss Kirika and Miss Shirabe, who are in some sort of argument over cooking breakfast.

It’s _distinctly_ different from the quiet mornings with only Mrs. Tsubasa and Mrs. Maria.

It’s nice, she decides, taking a seat at the table.

“Good morning, Elfnein,” Mrs. Tsubasa greets her.

Miss Chris gives her a brief nod and says, “Good morning again, kid. Thanks for the help earlier.” She even smiles a bit.

“Good morning, Miss Chris, Mrs. Tsubasa.”

“Breakfast should be ready in a few minutes, barring any _accidents_ from the twin terrors,” Mrs. Tsubasa blithely informs her, drawing an indignant, _I heard that!_ from Miss Kirika. “Ah, but has Maria gotten up yet? She tends to fall back asleep fairly quickly if someone does not insist that she get out of bed.”

Elfnein nods. “She said she was going to take a while planning her funeral outfit because Miss Kirika and Miss Shirabe got her in trouble at the school yesterday,” she informs Mrs. Tsubasa of what Mrs. Maria had half-jokingly told her earlier.

Mrs. Tsubasa’s eyebrows jump up, though she murmurs, “I do not know why their capacity for trouble continues to astound me.”

“We honestly didn’t mean to this time,” Miss Kirika pouts. “We just missed Maria so much that we had to see her the moment we got back!”

“Kiri, the crêpes are burning.”

“Ah! No! Wait… Shirabe! They’re _not_ burning. Geez, don’t make me panic like that,” Miss Kirika whines.

Mrs. Tsubasa and Miss Chris roll their eyes at each other, and Elfnein has to stifle a giggle behind her hands.

“How do I look? Would you believe that my demise is today?” Mrs. Maria dramatically announces her entrance, throwing her arms out in the entryway.

“Maria! You look _great_ and there will definitely be no demises!”

“What Kiri said.”

“Like a boring teacher.”

“Perfectly acceptable, and I am sure your fellow faculty will understand the extenuating circumstances, Maria.”

Mrs. Maria turns to her, and she mumbles, “You look nice, Mrs. Maria.” Mrs. Maria beams.

“Good, and I certainly _hope_ Miss Akemi will be in a more forgiving mood today, because I don’t think her piano will ever be the same,” Mrs. Maria declares as she takes the seat beside Elfnein.

Shirabe grumbles, “That was all Kiri’s fault.”

“Was not! _I_ wasn’t the one juggling _sixteen cans of vending machine coffee_ like some crazy caffeine addict!”

Apparently Miss Chris takes offense to that because she protests, “Oi! _I_ happen to be a fan of vending machine coffee, you know!”

“That’s weird, Chris. I only had that many cans because they have such an appallingly low amount of caffeine.”

Mrs. Tsubasa addresses Elfnein over the budding argument, “You will have to get used to this, I’m afraid—unless it truly distresses you, in which case you have but to say the word and I will set them right.” She looks genuinely apologetic and concerned, and even Mrs. Maria nods in agreement.

Well _that_ is a lot of power given to her all of a sudden….

“It’s okay,” she says, angling her head down to stare at the table’s polished veneer.

“Are you sure, Elfnein? Your well-being in your own home is important—and they are adults, perfectly capable of handling themselves properly. They won’t mind, Elfnein,” Mrs. Maria gently reassures her.

Their consideration is heart-warming, but she really is sure. She isn’t so scared of the people here.

“Really, I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Mrs. Maria pats her hand and Mrs. Tsubasa nods at her.

Miss Shirabe states then, “Breakfast is ready.”

“ _Finally!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I forget that Chris exists. Inevitably, I forget one character whenever I have a bunch of them in a single place together, and then I feel like I have to give them some mention to show that they haven't, like, mysteriously disappeared or something. Anyway, I hope this turned out alright.
> 
> I'm sleepy, so I'll answer comments tomorrow ^^
> 
> Please review!


	17. 2.17 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She can definitely see why Mrs. Tsubasa likes escaping away for some solitude every morning.

### SEVENTEEN

Towards the end breakfast, they discuss their plans for the day.

Mrs. Maria has to go to work, it being a weekday, and Mrs. Tsubasa has to take her, of course, or else Mrs. Maria be late. Miss Chris already has plans to go to the city to check up on “the old man,” so she and Mrs. Maria can take the train together.

With that settled, Mrs. Tsubasa takes their empty plates to the kitchen and disappears for a while; considering yesterday and the day before that, Mrs. Tsubasa probably went to find some peace outside.

Everyone else is content to linger around for a while longer—until Miss Kirika and Miss Shirabe realize that they’ll get left behind because the car doesn’t fit that many people. They ask to borrow Miss Chris’s car, but Miss Chris refuses to trust her car with them.

“We promise we’ll be careful with it,” Miss Shirabe insists. “Besides, we’ll be with Tsubasa and Elfnein all day. What could go wrong?”

“Famous last words,” Miss Chris mutters but ultimately concedes.

Mrs. Maria looks at her watch and says, “Then we should get ready now. Chris, do you mind going with Kirika and Shirabe in your car? You can follow behind Tsubasa’s car if you don’t remember how to get to the station.”

It’s an obvious ploy to bring some distance, especially when Mrs. Maria glances at her; it’s nice to have someone care so much for her.

“Sure, no problem.”

“Good! Everyone meet back here in no less than seventeen minutes. And, Elfnein,” Mrs. Maria turns to her, “could you find Tsubasa again after you’re done getting ready? I have to make sure that I have all my things _and_ that Tsubasa has all of hers.”

“Okay,” she agrees and slips away from the dining room ahead of the others.

She has her teeth brushed quickly and then she’s dashing off to see if Mrs. Tsubasa is at yesterday’s spot or the one from the day before.

Unsurprisingly, it looks like Mrs. Tsubasa has chosen somewhere else to hide. She smiles, because it’s like a game—she wonders if Mrs. Tsubasa’s doing it on purpose?

Hm. Good question, actually.

Regardless of whether or not Mrs. Tsubasa’s doing it on purpose, however, she still needs to find Mrs. Tsubasa before Mrs. Maria starts panicking.

She finds Mrs. Tsubasa reclining against the wall in a little alcove off of the inner courtyard, and this time Mrs. Tsubasa notices.

“Ah, Elfnein. Time to go?” Mrs. Tsubasa asks, standing straight.

She nods. “I’m not very good with time, but I think it’s almost been seventeen minutes,” she says while looking around Mrs. Tsubasa, trying to see if the alcove is a secret passageway that goes somewhere or if it’s something else.

Mrs. Tsubasa chuckles and offers, “All is not as meets the eye, though sometimes a wall is just that—a wall,” as a _very_ vague clue. “Though for now we must make haste lest Maria take the car and leave us behind.” They leave the alcove.

“Would she do that?” she asks, eyes wide. Surely Mrs. Maria wouldn’t!

With a wry smile, Mrs. Tsubasa shrugs. “It has been known to happen,” she admits, “but nevertheless I doubt she will leave without at least giving us multiple warnings.”

“Warnings for what?” Mrs. Maria asks, a few coats in her hand; without Elfnein noticing, she and Mrs. Tsubasa had rejoined the others in the house’s foyer.

Accepting the proffered coat, she bundles herself up and lets Mrs. Tsubasa answer, “For leaving without us, as you did when I took too long in shining my shoes the day that German opera opened in the city, if you recall?”

Mrs. Maria scrunches her face while Miss Kirika and Miss Chris laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I'll update tomorrow or the day after. Keeping track of so many characters--double the usual amount--makes me take longer to write, and I've a few assignments due soon, so yeah.
> 
> Please review!


	18. 2.18 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It looks like she will have to have a certain conversation with Elfnein sooner rather than later....

### EIGHTEEN

“I mean, I dunno… by the time we met Tsubasa, she’d pretty much settled into who she is today. There’s not much different between eighteen-year-old Tsubasa and present Tsubasa, except that now she’s more… open, I guess?”

Perhaps she should tell them that she can hear them quite clearly….

“She’s more relaxed.”

Or, she could continue inadvertently listening.

“Yeah! That! But from what Chris likes to tell us—and Hibiki, whenever we can get her to talk about it—Tsubasa used to be, like, a hardcore rebel!”

They are going to ruin her reputation. She should put a stop to this.

“Really?”

Ah, but it is a natural part of life, is it not? To have one’s image besmirched by family.

“Oh, _definitely_. Apparently Genjuurou had to replace her motorcycle often, because she kept crashing it!”

That is true, but _in context_ —well, context might make it sound _worse_ , instead.

“Mrs. Maria _did_ mention that Mrs. Tsubasa used to perform dangerous stunts….”

Dangerous for those who have not trained from a young age, certainly. However, for those who _are_ well-prepared…

“That must’ve been a sight to see.”

Quite so, Shirabe. If only those maneuvers had been recorded.

“Not only that, but she _hated_ Hibiki with a passion when they first met!”

Now _that_ was a misunderstanding—what has Chris been telling them?

“She hated Maria when they first met, too.”

“But! That was… that was different! There were _extenuating circumstances_.”

Thank you, Kirika.

“How did Mrs. Maria and Mrs. Tsubasa meet?”

She thinks to intervene, because that is a truth best told to Elfnein directly from Maria and herself, not anyone else, but Shirabe’s response halts her just as she reaches the door to her office:

“Tsubasa came into our lives—well, it was actually the other way around. We came into Tsubasa’s life during a very dark time in our own lives. We weren’t in a good place.”

“It took a while, but Hibiki, Tsubasa, Chris, and Miku all saved us from ourselves.”

“Kiri and I can’t tell you more than that, I’m afraid. All the details… it’s not our story to tell, and we can’t talk about our own without giving away theirs, either. So I’m afraid we’re stuck waiting for Maria and Tsubasa to decide when to tell you.”

Which will be a while yet, she thinks to herself. It is not a past to be taken lightly.

“Is it… is it bad?”

Too late she remembers that Elfnein’s own father had had his own dark past—one that had followed him until the very end. Of course Elfnein would be wary.

“Uh, well, it _was_ pretty bad; I can’t lie about that. But I think we’ve done our very best to make up for our mistakes, haven’t we, Shirabe?”

“Yes.”

“Oh….”

“Anyway! That’s all in the past! Let’s talk about something happier! Like bread!”

She is not sure she heard _that_ correctly—did Kirika _truly_ just resort to _bread_ as a conversation opener?

“You suck at transitions, Kiri.”

“We don’t talk about that!”

“…Then what _should_ we talk about?”

“I dunno. D’you want to know anything in particular, Elfnein? I think we could tell you more stories about… uh… what’s a safe topic…?

“Anything about our trip. We literally went around the world, Kiri; _surely_ we have _something_ to talk about, geez.”

“U-um… I’d like to know about t-that, if it’s okay…”

“Sure thing! We—me, Shirabe, and Chris—started in the States, actually, and moved eastwards from there. I think that’s what took the longest, because it’s such a _huge_ country, made up of, like, _mini_ countries! Anyway, so….”

She relaxes. This is, as Kirika put it, a _safe topic_.

Just in case, however, she will keep her door open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote parts of this a bunch of times and I'm finally satisfied with it. It's also written in a different manner than usual, so I hope it reads well.
> 
> Please review!


	19. 2.19 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A serious matter.

### NINETEEN

She looks at Chis, who seems to be off in her own world, brooding again.

“You look a little tired,” she says.

Chris blinks and refocuses on her. “Jet lag, you know,” she replies, shrugging. “Plus, traveling the world is surprisingly exhausting work. I think it’s all catching up to me now that there’s no excitement just around the corner.”

“Just like in the old days, right?” she laughs, thinking back to when they had been the leading team of the Second Division.

Chris snorts, “You make us sound old.”

That makes her pause.

She and Tsubasa aren’t _physically_ old, but sometimes she feels as if their minds—their experiences have made them age beyond their actual years.

But that’s not what this conversation is about.

“Our heads might be old,” she muses, “but that doesn’t mean we’ve become bitter, pessimistic stodges, right? We’re still plenty hopeful and in the prime of our lives!”

“Hopeful?” Chris echoes. “I guess so.”

“Then why the long face, Chris?”

Chris stares out the window, gazing blankly at the passing scenery.

“I guess,” she replies after a long silence, “I was just… thinking. About Hibiki and Miku’s kid, and yours. Carol and Elfnein. And other things. Like… Finé, and Genjuurou, and my parents. It’s all jumbled, y’know? I’m not sure what I’m thinking about, exactly.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “Are you wondering if it’s time your own life settled down, maybe?” she cautiously suggests, though she thinks it highly unlikely.

“Psh, no,” Chris quickly refutes.

Maybe it’s the atmosphere, the environment; having a child around has brought old memories back, has made them nostalgic. She knows that it’s hit Kirika and Shirabe the hardest. Herself and Tsubasa—well, they got used to being their own guiding forces years ago. For them, it’s a question that’s more about being good parents than wishing they had had good parents for themselves.

Maybe that’s what Chris is thinking about.

Looking at her suddenly, Chris says, “You know, Maria, I’m glad Elfnein got you guys as her parents.”

She starts to reply, to thank Chris, who has returned her gaze to the outside, but she stops.

There is more, isn’t there? So instead she prompts, “Because?”

Because? Does a child need to have reason to be thankful for their parents? Not normally, no. Parents are parents. It’s their responsibility to be good for their children—some children are painfully unfortunate to have people ill-suited to parenthood, and it’s not something to take for granted, but it’s not something that is a _godsend_.

It’s a _right_.

“I… feel bad for her,” Chris replies, slowly and reluctantly, crossing her arms. “She’s very clearly a good kid. She doesn’t deserve what happened to her. So. I’m glad she has you. It doesn’t make up for… for everything, but it’s something.”

Guilt is written all over Chris.

This isn’t exactly about Elfnein’s loss of her father.

“What did you do?”

And she almost feels bad at the flinch her cold question earns—but.

But Chris is an adult. She is not helpless.

Elfnein is a child, with everything that being a child entails, including a lack of control over her own life.

If Chris has had _anything, anything at all_ to do with the pure _terror_ that had gripped Elfnein the very night before—

“I made a choice,” Chris interrupts her thoughts, chin jutted out defiantly. “I made a choice, Maria, and I don’t regret it. I wish it hadn’t been necessary, that it hadn’t caused Elfnein so much pain, but what’s done is done.”

“But _what choice_ did you make?” she presses. She hadn’t expected _anything_ like this to happen, and it’s making her anxious.

Sighing, Chris murmurs, “It’s not the right time to tell you. Not yet. I promise—” her eyes meet Maria’s with solemnity—“that I’ll tell you everything as soon as I can. But it isn’t just my secret alone; there are others who are just as deeply affected as Elfnein. Don’t you understand that?”

Yes, she can understand.

But it _pains_ her.

Already she has to stand back and do nothing.

It’s—it’s _maddening_. It’s like she’s nineteen again, meeting Ver and having her hands tied, unable to make a stand for her own beliefs.

“I didn’t mean to say anything beforehand,” Chris mutters, clenching her fists, “but seeing Elfnein made it all come back.”

“For her sake, Chris, I hope it’s worth it.”

Chris promises, “Oh, it had better be. I’ll make sure of it.” Her eyes blaze.

This is Chris.

Who has been something of a seventh wheel, yet part of the glue that keeps everyone together, almost as much as even Hibiki.

“Okay. I’ll trust you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More on the serious side, and perhaps jumping the gun a bit, but I'd like to get the basic theme of the next arc set up before we get there. Thus we've this chapter, a little hint at what's to come.
> 
> No updates tomorrow; I'm up to my ears in schoolwork, unfortunately.
> 
> Please review!


	20. 2.20 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say silence is golden, but she begs to differ.

### TWENTY

Reduced to stillness, she can hear: Maria’s soft, even breathing, faint, raucous laughter that is probably a tipsy Kirika, and a low, sad melody that is Chris’s choice of lullaby. She also hears the inquisitive creaks of the house sounding out its current occupants with something akin to disbelief.

It makes her want to leave her bed in favor of walking the halls—to explore just as the house would like her to.

“Stop thinking so loudly,” Maria grumbles, burrowing further into Tsubasa’s side. “Sleep.”

“I can’t,” she whispers her reply.

With a groan, Maria props herself up on an elbow to squint at her. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” It’s said with equal parts concern and exasperation.

She presses a finger to Maria’s lips, murmuring, “Do you hear that?”

Again, Maria’s breathing, Kirika’s laughter, the mournful accompaniment, the groans of the house—and her own heartbeat. Somewhere within, Elfnein and Shirabe are ensconced in envelopes of relative silence, just as she and Maria are.

“You mean Kirika? Or the strangely sad music that Chris is playing?” Maria asks, lying back down and threading her fingers with Tsubasa’s. “Does it bother you, that there is sound after such a long period of silence?”

There— _that_ is the question.

“I’m not sure,” she whispers again.

Does it _bother_ her? Does it bother the house?

“No…?”

Maria chuckles and answers, “I think you’re just not used to it—and maybe it feels like a dream, doesn’t it?”

“A dream… I almost cannot believe that this is _real_ ,” she says.

And perhaps it is—“Too good to be true.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” She turns to her side, seeking Maria’s silhouette in the darkness. “I have never known the house to be so _properly_ _alive_ , as if _people truly lived here_.”

Maria’s grip tightens on her hand. “I always did think this place was a mausoleum,” she confesses. “At least, back when _he_ was in control.” Years later, and Maria still burns with righteous indignation. “But just you wait until I’m home all day! Then you really _will_ be annoyed,” Maria laughs.

“And when will that be? So that I know when to make my hotel reservation,” she teases back. Her eyes have adjusted enough that she can see Maria’s smirk.

“How awful of you, Tsubasa!” Maria smacks her lightly, affecting offense. “Seriously, though. I get off on the 20th, and I’m sure the others will want to make the most of it….”

“Don’t worry about me,” she tells Maria, “I can handle a little noise. I do wonder, however, if Elfnein will mind.”

Maria hums pensively.

“I hope she doesn’t mind… but I’ll talk to Kirika, Shirabe, and Chris to make sure they don’t go overboard.”

Perhaps Elfnein will have a response similar to hers—taken aback, yet content.

After all, Maria is right: the house has been a mausoleum for too long. She is certain that Elfnein understands this (even though she wishes that Elfnein had not had to know these truths long before her time).

“Tsubasa?”

“Hm?”

“You’re thinking again,” Maria chides her.

She laughs, and the house laughs with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just finished Bodacious Space Pirates yesterday. /Great/ show, I definitely recommend. The fic archive is even smaller than Symphogear's, which makes me sad, but still the anime was amazing. 10/10.
> 
> Anyway, please review!


	21. 2.21 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria gets some advice from fellow teachers.

### TWENTY-ONE

“I recommend this one,” Miss Kaname says, pointing at a pamphlet partially buried under the rest.

She pulls it out, reading aloud the name in thin serif: “Mitakihara Elementary School.”

Miss Kaname nods enthusiastically, “Yes! That’s where Takkun and I went when we were kids. Mitakihara is the next city over, so it’s something of a commute, but I think it’s definitely worth it for the kind teachers and good curriculum, and the main city itself is one of the calmest and safest, which is hard to find these days!”

“I do not recommend any of the private schools,” Miss Akemi adds, peering over Miss Kaname’s shoulder and making Maria jump (that stealth of hers is going to scare the life out of someone someday). “Those are much stricter—perhaps ill-suited to a child of timorous temperament.”

“Ah?” Hm. She _has_ heard—from Tsubasa, mostly—that private schools are much more competitive and exacting, even at the elementary school level. She moves that collection to the side; that’ll be the ‘reject’ pile. No need to taint Elfnein’s love of learning with that sort of thing.

The rest are public schools in the city and the city’s closest neighbors. She’s leaning towards ‘no’ for the ones that are further away, but it’ll be Elfnein’s choice in the end.

“Do you know of any schools that might be particularly well with foreign-raised children?” she asks, because so far none of the pamphlets mention anything of the sort, which she supposes is understandable, since most students don’t begin to travel until high school.

Still, it’d make her feel better to know that Elfnein wouldn’t be stuck floundering in a sea of native speakers—then again, Elfnein’s Japanese is surprisingly fluent. She’d never thought to ask about that, had she?

Miss Kaname replies, “Not that I know of, unless you go to one of the military-affiliated schools, but if you meet with the principle they’re generally accommodating.”

“There are _military-affiliated_ schools?”

“Few and far between,” Miss Akemi states. “My father went to one. I do not recommend such a school, either, unless your student requires additional discipline.”

Well _that_ is a definite _no_ , though she doesn’t have any military schools on her list. Still, it’s the principle of the matter.

“Honestly, it all comes down to whether or not you feel comfortable there. I suggest choosing a few that are close by and taking tour, see which campus you like best.”

She sighs. Finding a suitable high school for Kirika and Shirabe hadn’t been _nearly_ so difficult, and she’d only been twenty-one at the time! Granted, there had been only one possible choice of school… but still!

She complains, entirely jokingly, “Don’t schools know that there’s such a thing as _too many_ choices?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review!


	22. 2.22 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does it mean to have a "good" parent?

### TWENTY-TWO

“Twenty-two!” she reports to Mrs. Tsubasa, who checks the number to what she has written in her ledger.

Nodding, Mrs. Tsubasa confirms, “Twenty-two species of flowers are currently listed in the inventory. Excellent; thank you, Elfnein.”

She puffs up, proud.

“ _Weeell_ ,” Miss Kirika remarks, poking at a bouquet on display, “it looks like _we_ are never getting Maria flowers again. You guys have a whole _farm_ full of ‘em!”

“What made you go for flowers?” Miss Shirabe asks, batting Miss Kirika’s hand away from the display. “You’ve always been so… dedicated to your duty.”

Mrs. Tsubasa replies, “I am not chained—not anymore—and I wish for Elfnein to know my presence in her life.” She turns a little red and glances away from Elfnein’s startled gaze as she adds, “I cannot be a good parent if I am constantly away from home.”

A more cynical part of her, her “Carol” voice, tells her that _Papa_ had meant well, too, but even though he had worked from home he had always been too busy for them.

But the mounting evidence says that Mrs. Tsubasa is putting a genuine effort into interacting with Elfnein despite both Mrs. Maria and Mrs. Tsubasa continuing to work. Then again, what _are_ Mrs. Tsubasa and Mrs. Maria going to do when she starts going to school? Sit around at the house all day?

Thinking about it, maybe Papa should have sent her and Carol to a _proper_ school, instead of holding scattered lessons here and there without any semblance of order or even continuity. Then again, that would’ve required them to stay in one place long enough to make going to school worth it, and Papa was a traveler through and through.

She’s not blind. She knows Papa hadn’t been really comfortable with being a parent—not at all, actually, if his burnt meals were anything to go by. He’d meant well; it’s just that he hadn’t had much inclination to parenting.

“Elfnein?” Mrs. Tsubasa’s soft voice brings her out of her thoughts, “Is something the matter?”

She blinks, realizing that Miss Kirika and Miss Shirabe had left while she was wrapped up in her thoughts.

“Um,” she says because Mrs. Tsubasa’s waiting for a response but she’s not sure what to say. “I’m… I’m okay. I was just thinking, and I guess I got carried away.”

Mrs. Tsubasa nods in understanding. “My own thoughts can be a handful, as well. Maria likes to tell me that I think too loudly and too often, especially at night,” she says with a wry grimace.

She giggles; Mrs. Tsubasa’s expression softens into concern again.

“I’m okay, really,” she says to reassure Mrs. Tsubasa.

Mrs. Tsubasa tells her with the utmost solemnity, “I will take your word for it, Elfnein. However, please do not forget that Maria and I are here for you. I would leave behind everything for you, Elfnein.” Mrs. Tsubasa’s eyes shine—with tears?

Words and promises can be empty.

“Okay. I’ll believe you.”

And then Mrs. Tsubasa opens her arms, beckoning to her with a loving smile, and moments later Elfnein is engulfed in a warm hug.

She’ll keep on believing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review!


	23. 2.23 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another major life change is fast approaching.

### TWENTY-THREE

She takes back what she said about going to an actual school.

There are so _many_ to choose from—and, honestly, they’re all starting to blur together. At this rate, she thinks she’ll just end up picking the one that looks nicest.

“Wow,” Miss Kirika comments over Elfnein’s shoulder. “You’d think you were going to high school or college instead of just picking an elementary school! I like this one, though.” She points at a brochure with a Victorian-styled building on the front. “Sophisticated-looking, right?”

Exactly her point, except she thinks she favors the simple, blue-lined buildings of the brochure next to the Victorian one.

Mrs. Tsubasa puts another brochure down as she takes off her glasses and sighs. “Please tell me we will not have to visit _all twenty-three of them_ ,” she asks to the room at large, looking just as overwhelmed as Elfnein feels.

“Of course not,” Mrs. Maria replies. She gestures to the leaflets scattered all over the dining room table, “We’ll narrow it down to a few and go from there.”

That decision ultimately falls to her and she has _no idea_ what she’s supposed to pick, what a good school is supposed to be like. They _all_ sound like good schools to her. How is she supposed to make a decision, then, based on her poor understanding of the parameters and variables?

An idea hits her: “What school did you go to, Mrs. Tsubasa?”

“I?” Mrs. Tsubasa looks startled, and it takes her a moment to reply, “I had tutors here at the estate up until I began high school.” Mrs. Tsubasa frowns. “Now that you mention it… none of us here have had proper primary educations.”

“Really?”

Miss Shirabe murmurs, “Kiri and I had a few years at the orphanage.”

The orphanage. She’d forgotten that Miss Kirika, Miss Shirabe, and Mrs. Maria were all orphans, too.

“I think I went to kindergarten…?” Mrs. Maria contributes, frowning a bit.

“What about you, Chris?” Miss Kirika raises her voice so that Miss Chris can hear them from the kitchen. “Did you go to elementary school?”

Miss Chris shouts back, “What kind of question is that? Of course I didn’t; my parents were too busy taking me along on their tour all over the planet to enroll me in school!”

Mrs. Tsubasa mutters disbelievingly, “None of us have any experience with this, good grief. Perhaps we should call Tachibana?”

Tachibana is Miss Hibiki, she thinks. A friend of the family—who is, apparently, more normal than everyone here in the estate.

“No,” Mrs. Maria shakes her head, “it’s not _that_ difficult. We can do this. How about we do it this way: choose the closest ones, then narrow them down by interest, and finally we’ll make arrangements for touring the campuses. How’s that sound, Elfnein?”

Methodical, with a reasonable criteria set. She likes it.

“Okay,” she agrees.

“I was already thinking of leaving the farther schools out, and I don’t think private schools would have the right type of environment,” Mrs. Maria continues, gathering up a pile of leaflets, including the Victorian one that Miss Kirika had liked. “What do you think?”

Farther away doesn’t sound very reassuring, so she ignores those, glancing instead through the collection of private school leaflets. The private schools look _really_ exclusive. She doubts she’d fit in well.

She casually sets them aside. Miss Kirika chortles.

“By interest, then,” Mrs. Tsubasa says, her glasses now sliding down the bridge of her nose as she peers at yet another pamphlet.

“From what I’ve seen, the major programs are: the arts, the sciences, and athletics,” Miss Shirabe reports. “I made a list.” She slides a sheet of notebook paper towards Elfnein.

“Excellent,” Mrs. Tsubasa says, clearly relieved.

“So, what are Elfnein’s interests?”

Uh.

Well.

Definitely not athletics, and not so much the arts. She hasn’t really had much exposure to math beyond arithmetic, but she _has_ studied chemistry—with Papa—and she knows she certainly likes literature and history.

Then that means…: “T-the sciences…?”

Mrs. Maria claps her hands. “Great! That significantly reduces the number, according to Shirabe’s notes.”

They root through the strewn brochures so that only a handful is left.

She finds that the blue-lined one she’d been looking at earlier made the cut.

“I shall make the calls, then,” Mrs. Tsubasa says, gathering up the rejected leaflets into a large pile. “Maria will not be able to make the appointments, but she will be present later on when we enroll you.” Mrs. Maria nods.

“The benefits of being self-employed,” Miss Kirika interjects. “You get to choose when to ditch work!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review!


	24. 2.24 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner with Chris and Elfnein.

### TWENTY-FOUR

Dinner is a much quieter affair without Maria, Kirika, and Shirabe.

Should she say something to break the silence? A sidelong glance at Chris shows that Yukine is unconcerned with the lack of conversation, and Elfnein has her gaze angled down to her plate, seemingly content enough.

There is no tangible _need_ for filler—it is only in her anxious mind that the silence is smothering instead of pleasant.

Her mind, unfortunately, is quite insistent. It dislikes the clatter of the silverware against plates, thinks it too similar to the stilted, silent dinners of the past.

“Have you any plans in particular for tomorrow, Yukine?”

Inwardly, she thanks her stars and all her past ancestors that she did not say anything ridiculous about the weather. So far, so good, as Maria would say.

“Eh… not really,” Chris shrugs. “I _am_ thinking of dragging ShiraKiri back with me when I return to my apartment in a few days, though.”

That—is not at all what she had expected to hear.

“You have not been here even a week,” she responds, frowning, “I do not think Kirika and Shirabe would be willing to leave so soon after their return; indeed, Maria is under the impression that you will remain with us through the holidays.”

Chris sighs, “Ah, man. It’s just that I feel bad… I think we’ve intruded on you long enough, that’s why I want to get out of your hair, you know?”

Intruded?

“I’m really sorry, Elfnein,” Chris continues, looking at Elfnein, who startles at being addressed directly. “I know what it’s like to have to adjust so suddenly to new guardians…. Seriously, you’ve been with Tsubasa and Maria for, what, a week? And we’ve been here almost as long. Damn, we have horrible timing.”

Although that is true, she thinks it worked out fine for all involved.

This time, however, Elfnein replies before Tsubasa can, “No, it’s okay… I don’t mind. I-it’s nice, I-I think. I liked the song you were playing last night.”

Chris raises her eyebrows disbelievingly, asking, “You heard that? I could’ve sworn I’d lowered the volume—and how’d you know that was me?”

Elfnein reddens and stares down at the table as she murmurs, “B-because Miss Kirika and Miss Shirabe are c-closer to my room, a-and they stayed up laughing… so it h-had to have been y-you, M-Miss C-Chris.”

The few days they have spent together have not, apparently, dispelled Elfnein’s initial impression of Chris.

“Geez,” Chris grumbles, crossing her arms. “I _told_ them not to get too into the sherry. And sorry, I must’ve been too buzzed to notice. I hope I didn’t keep you up late.”

She would rather that Yukine _not_ speak of such habits so casually—Elfnein is, after all, an impressionable young mind.

“N-no, it’s okay! Really,” Elfnein reiterates emphatically, if with a nervous glance at Tsubasa’s frowning face.

Chris sighs again, “This is what I meant.” She waves between Elfnein and Tsubasa. “You haven’t _really_ settled in, gotten used to each other, gotten to _know_ each other. That sort of thing. Trust me, having me and ShiraKiri around isn’t going to help you get out of the transitioning phase.”

“Ah. Perhaps you have a point.” Chris _is_ more experienced with this, having been through something similar once.

“Of course I do. But, I’m not sure how to convince the others about leaving….”

She hums pensively, tapping her fingers against her glass.

“I think,” she says slowly, “Maria would understand if we explained.”

“Besides, it’s not like we’ll be very far,” Chris adds, waving a hand lazily. “We’ll be at No. 24, just a few blocks away from Lydian, y’know.”

“We will speak further on this when Maria and the others return,” she declares. “Dinner is meant to be a lighthearted affair.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was hard to write for some reason.
> 
> Please review!


	25. 2.25 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria has dinner with Kirika and Shirabe. There are some realizations involved.

### TWENTY-FIVE

“So,” Kirika states, putting down her glass and turning her full focus to Maria. “You’ve adopted Elfnein.”

“Yes…?” She, too, leaves her meal to give Kirika her undivided attention.

Tsubasa’s rubbed off on them. She’s glad that Kirika and Shirabe had such a good role model during the upheaval in their teenaged years, with both herself and their mother gone.

Shirabe murmurs, not quite questioning, “We thought you were looking for… someone younger.”

She sighs.

“I mean, we just want to know why,” Kirika hastily explains.

“At first… well, I had a nursery all ready at our apartment, and when we had received approval, I was certain we’d come in the next time looking for little children—toddlers, babies.” She shrugs, chuckling, “but I felt drawn to Elfnein the moment I saw her, and Tsubasa agreed.”

“That explains why everything happened so fast,” Kirika realizes, “because you hadn’t made preparations for an older kid—you hadn’t expected to need to change your lifestyle so quickly.”

Blushing, she mutters, “It was lack of foresight on my part.”

Kirika and Shirabe laugh.

She smiles as she watches them relax under the familiar atmosphere.

“I think it runs in the family,” Kirika confesses sheepishly. “We didn’t really consider what was going on here when we decided to cut our trip short.” Now she looks guilty, twisting her napkin in her hands.

“Yeah,” Shirabe nods, “we didn’t mean to come back right after you’d adopted Elfnein.”

Ah, yes. That.

“I have to admit that it _has_ been a bit inconvenient—honestly, I’ve felt a bit torn between the both of you and Elfnein. I’d thought I would have more time… that we’d all have more time to get used to each other before introducing even more new people into Elfnein’s life. And Tsubasa, you know how it is, being back in a place with so many unpleasant memories.”

Kirika and Shirabe seem to wilt.

“We’re really sorry,” Shirabe whispers, and Kirika nods emphatically.

Giving in, she says, “I’m not mad. Really. I just wish things had gone a little differently.”

“That’s why!” Kirika leans forward, slapping her hands onto the table, “that’s why me and Shirabe want to give you guys some space. We’re thinking of going back to our apartment in the city in a few days instead of sticking around ‘til the new year.”

“Plus, we have to get back to work. We have a giant stack of reports to go through—our total was up at twenty-five the last time I checked, and it’s probably more now.” Shirabe and Kirika both scrunch up their faces at the thought of desk duty.

“Oh.” She blinks.

Well, _that’s_ a curveball.

But a welcome thing, she thinks.

“And, it’s not like we’re gonna let you guys be hermits. We’ll still visit often enough to keep you on your toes,” Kirika points out, smirking.

“You just got back….”

Maybe _not_ so welcome. But, well, she’s only just gotten Kirika and Shirabe back after nearly a year of them traipsing all over the world.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Kirika says, blinking rapidly, “or else you’ll make _me_ cry, too! And—like I said, we’re not going far….”

Shirabe nods in agreement, “It’s high time we were independent, Maria. Like we told you when you married Tsubasa—we can take care of ourselves perfectly fine, and we _will_. We’re not going to hold you back.”

“I know, I know,” she sighs, dabbing at her eyes.

It’s just that, all of a sudden, it feels as if everything is changing, everything is moving so _fast_. For the better, yes, but still; it hadn’t hit her until now that they are _all_ moving forward in their lives.

Kirika and Shirabe aren’t kids anymore.

And she has an _actual_ child waiting for her at home, someone who will always look up to her as a mother, and not as a bumbling sister, like Kirika and Shirabe knew her.

Of course, she had seen this coming. She doesn’t _always_ lack foresight.

“Okay. I’m good now.” She smiles at them, reaching across the table to clasp their hands in hers.

“Good. We didn’t mean to make you cry. Though, I feel like that’s kind of inevitable, isn’t it?” Shirabe asks with a wry smile.

“Aw, darn it! Our food’s gone cold,” Kirika whines, poking at her plate.

Shirabe covers her eyes with her free hand, muttering, “Way to ruin the moment, Kiri.”

Maria laughs as Kirika grins at them, shrugging sheepishly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pleeeease review! ^^


	26. 2.26 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria wants to know how dinner went, but Elfnein's too sleepy to respond.

### TWENTY-SIX

She makes sure to keep a comfortable distance from Elfnein as she takes a seat on Elfnein’s bed as she asks, “How did dinner with Tsubasa and Chris go? I know Tsubasa can be a little awkward sometimes, and Chris gives off a very brash impression….”

Elfnein, however, is already halfway asleep, curled around her stuffed shark.

It’s either that the past week has been very tiring, or Elfnein naturally gets sleepy by this time of the night. If it’s the former, she’s going to have to figure out a way to… lessen the stress and excitement, somehow.

Unfortunately, there’s not much she can do about the newness of everything; only time will change that.

Speaking of time, she glances at her watch—twenty-six past the hour, which is earlier than yesterday’s bedtime. She wonders if the smaller dinner was more emotionally taxing than having everyone all together. She knows it’s much harder to blend into the background when there are less people present.

“Elfnein?” she prods softly.

“Mm?” is the sleepy response.

Laughing softly, she repeats herself, “How was dinner today?”

Elfnein mumbles, “Mm… okay. We missed you.”

That means it was either awfully awkward or they really are attached to her. While the latter warms her heart—it actually makes her _really happy_ —she has to restrain a sigh.

Why does her family have to be so socially self-conscious?

(Better stop that line of thought, or else she’ll start thinking about bad parents and tragic circumstances.)

“I missed you, too, darling,” she whispers instead. She stands, tucks the covers around Elfnein a little more securely, and continues, “I hope it didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

Snuggling deeper into her pillow, Elfnein answers, “No… it was nice.”

That’s more or less all she’s going to get out of Elfnein, at least for tonight, so she resigns herself to questioning Tsubasa and trusting her judgement (which she usually does, but sometimes Tsubasa is a bit… _blind_ to some things, despite her hypersensitivity to everyone and everything around her).

“Okay, then. Good night, Elfnein, and sweet dreams.”

“G’night….”

Quietly turning off the lights and slipping out of Elfnein’s room, she thinks that they have a long way to go before they are truly at home with each other.

Looks like Kirika and Shirabe are right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's something of a struggle, keeping the pace consistent and the characters' reactions and stuff believable. Thoughts?


	27. 2.27 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They are going to hibernate, more or less.

### TWENTY-SEVEN

“Wow! Great minds think alike!”

Shirabe adds, “But fools rarely differ,” and receives a wounded look from Kirika and an eye roll from Chris. “Just kidding. This is actually a good idea.”

“When do you depart?” she asks, pulling out her mental calendar to take notes.

“Day after tomorrow, yeah? But don’t think you’ll get rid of us so easily!” Kirika shakes a forefinger at her, making Tsubasa blink. “We’ll drop by for a few hours on Christmas, and the winter holiday part is on the 27th, I think, so we’ll see you there, too!”

About that…

“We’re not going to this year’s party, actually,” Maria apologizes. Then, with her tone wry and a pointed look towards the twin terrors, Maria adds, “It’s the whole _point_ of you returning to the city. We’re more or less going to be hermits for the rest of the winter.”

Hm. What an apt description. If she could have, she probably _would_ have become a hermit when she was young, before she had met Maria.

“You don’t mind if we visit every now and then, do you?” Shirabe cuts in, glancing at Tsubasa.

“As long as you let us know ahead of time, no,” she replies. She sees no harm in a few scattered visits.

Chris comments, “Hibiki will be disappointed. She was really looking forward to having a big New Year’s Eve party at her place with everyone in the Second Division, and I’m pretty sure she misses you both.”

“I’m sure she’ll understand the circumstances, being a parent herself,” Maria reasons.

All nod in agreement.

“Besides the employee party and Hibiki’s celebration, there is only the matter of the Kazanari family gathering.” She dislikes bringing it up, but she has to make sure that Chris knows what to do.

“Right,” Chris nods, crossing her arms. “The old man and I will keep an ear open for what’s what at the gathering—especially considering that the kid you’ve adopted is _not_ an infant who can just sleep through all the awkward, boring, and tension-filled moments. Man, I don’t envy you.”

Maria frowns.

Taking Maria’s hand in both her own, she explains, “You know they are uneasy about this, Maria; that is why I would like Yukine, Genjuurou, and my father to… investigate the clan’s thoughts on the matter. I need to know to adequately prepare.”

Kirika gasps, “Can me and Shirabe go, too? We make _great_ spies!”

“Your idea of a ‘disguise’ consists of a pair of glasses and nothing else. We can tell it’s you from a mile away,” Chris deadpans.

Wounded, Kirika sulks beside Shirabe, who shrugs indifferently.

“I wish it wasn’t necessary.”

She agrees wholeheartedly—but the elders resist change because it comes from her.

Not for the first time, she wishes the previous head had not been such a hateful person. More than that, however, she wishes that the clan did not associate her with him.

On the other hand: “You and I both know that they are not necessary. I would renounce everything for you and _our_ family.”

Maria squeezes her hands, smiling sadly. “I know. And I still wish it wasn’t necessary,” she whispers.

“We’ve got your back, Tsubasa. We’re not going to let those old stodges dictate your life,” Chris declares firmly.

“Let us hope for the best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review!


	28. 2.28 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miss Kirika remembers her mother.

### TWENTY-EIGHT

“Do you remember when we first met Mom?” Miss Kirika asks Miss Shirabe, who peers questioningly over her book.

“Yes. Why?”

Miss Kirika shrugs, picking at a loose thread on her sweater.

It sort of looks like Miss Kirika is brooding—or—no. It looks like Miss Kirika is thinking of someone gone.

That’s it. It’s so easy to forget, because they’re such… _happy, well put-together_ adults; she keeps forgetting that Miss Kirika, Miss Shirabe, and Mrs. Maria have all been through something similar.

(Though, maybe she keeps forgetting because she doesn’t want to think about Papa.)

(She misses him a lot.)

“Mom wasn’t ever very patient,” Miss Kirika abruptly continues, still twisting the frayed thread. “Honestly, I was scared of her for a long time, even though Maria and Serena would always tell me—us—that Mom wasn’t someone to fear, not when it came to us. It just didn’t make sense to me, though.

“And Shirabe trusted Mom even less than I did.”

Miss Shirabe nods, putting down her book and picking up where Miss Kirika left off, “We went along with what Maria and Serena did, because we were too afraid of the consequences to try to do anything of our own accord. But we managed to get into trouble anyway—and Mom, despite her temper, would forgive us almost immediately.”

Miss Kirika sighs. “It was only when… when she got sick that she became really stern with us,” she says, and she smiles sadly. “I think she was scared of leaving us alone, that we’d have a hard time making it on our own….”

“But what about Mrs. Maria?” she finds herself asking.

“Out of all of us, Maria was the most attached—Mom would say the most _dependent_ —to Mom, and I guess Mom thought that grief would… would ruin Maria. Maybe that’s why Mom was always so harsh with her.”

“It was a pretty tumultuous time in our lives,” Miss Kirika elaborates. “Mom wanted us to be strong.”

(It makes her wonder what _Papa_ had wanted.)

(Papa’s last words were so impersonal—not that she likes to dwell on it.)

“Heh,” Miss Kirika chuckles, wiping away a few rogue tears with her sleeve. “I’m twenty-eight and I’ve spent more than half my life without her, yet I still miss Mom a lot. It sort of sneaks up on me.”

That’s a sad thought….

Clearing her throat, Miss Shirabe prompts, “I don’t think that was your point, Kiri?”

“Oh—no, not really. Though, Elfnein,” here Miss Kirika emphatically meets her eyes, “if you ever want to talk about it, we will _always_ give you an ear—both ears! But not _literally_ ; totally metaphorically.” Miss Kirika waves her hands just as emphatically.

“O-okay.” She doesn’t want to, just yet, but maybe someday she will.

Miss Shirabe nods encouragingly as she pats Miss Kirika’s shoulder.

“Ah, but my _point_ is—um, well,” Miss Kirika starts fidgeting with her sleeve cuff again, “please don’t be afraid of Maria!”

“U-um….” She had sort of guessed it earlier, but the tangent had distracted her, and so she’s left not knowing what to say, caught off guard.

Miss Shirabe cuts in, “We mean, please trust that Maria and Tsubasa have your best interests at heart. They are genuinely good people, and if something, _anything_ makes you uncomfortable, they will listen. I know they have to _prove themselves_ to you, and they will, but—I _assure_ you that they _will_ do their very best for you, Elfnein.”

Even Carol would be hard-pressed to be coldhearted.

“I know,” she responds softly, idly kicking her legs against the couch while she tries to figure out how to put into words what she’s feeling. “Sometimes I have doubts, but I know. I trust Mrs. Maria and Mrs. Tsubasa. A-and you both, too,” she appends, mumbling the last bit.

Her back straightening in tangible relief and joy and even a bit of pride, Miss Kirika states, “We’re family. We’re here for you, unconditionally, from now until the end.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very excited because I have six chapters written for "Alphabet Soup," which has been moved up to Arc III. Arc IV is tentatively titled "Numbers and Letters," and I've done a bit of drabbling for it that'll later be polished into proper chapters. I wish I could say that these two arcs will be seen soon, but honestly I have three other long Symphogear projects that I really want to write, along with my current favorite project that I've been neglecting, lol.
> 
> Anyway, please review!


	29. 2.29 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It starts out as a typical hectic family dinner, then escalates to something rather serious. But all is well that ends well.

### TWENTY-NINE

Their last dinner for the foreseeable future goes about as smoothly as these things are wont to do:

Maria inadvertently consumes some of Yukine’s extra-spicy curry, and is thusly rendered incapable of speaking for a brief period; Shirabe and Kirika get into an argument of whether they should have black trimmings or yellow ones at their wedding (which results in Maria tearing up even more); Chris has a little too much to drink—perfectly understandable, given the aggravation that the twin terrors tend to cause—and ends up mistaking the salt for the sugar with rather comical spluttering; and Elfnein watches on, wide-eyed at the disaster all around her.

Except for Tsubasa, of course. Tsubasa Kazanari remains in full control of all her mental faculties.

“It is practically a tradition for dinner to become hectic when we bid each other farewell,” she confides to Elfnein over Kirika’s furious defense of the color black. “I am not certain how I have managed to survive this long.” She winks.

Maria slaps her wrist, even though her attention is focused on helping Yukine mop up the sopping mess of coffee.

Part of her fears that Elfnein will be put off by this—it is, admittedly, a rather strange experience for those not accustomed to it.

Fortunately, Elfnein cracks a smile and murmurs, barely audible over the commotion, “I’ll miss them when they leave.”

It makes her hands freeze, fork and knife held in a tight grip.

She remembers how _empty_ the house became when everyone left. They left, taking life itself away with them, leaving her behind in a mausoleum full of old, bitter ghosts.

Young Tsubasa Kazanari, watching from the doorway as her favorite uncle left her alone with no one but her distant father and even more distant grandfather for company.

The estate, as marked in official records, has the capacity for a grand total of twenty-nine people. The head has a private room, and the others fill the many, many rooms spiraling outwards from the master bedroom.

Of course it feels _desolate_ when only three occupy its halls.

She had been _so alone._

_So lonely_.

“I can ask them to stay,” she manages to offer, heart squeezed in the vice grip of emotions she had thought were long buried.

Elfnein stares at her, frowning in puzzlement.

Clearing her throat, she appends, “The house has more than enough room for them.”

(That is _not at all_ what she wanted to say.)

(But she does not want to taint such a joyful occasion.)

“M-Mrs. Tsubasa!” Elfnein nearly yelps. Her expression has turned to one of panic.

“P-pardon?”

“What about Tsubasa?” Kirika asks, attention drawn to them by Elfnein’s exclamation. “Uh… Tsubasa… are you crying?”

What?

“No!” But when she blinks, she realizes that _yes_ , yes she is crying.

Her face heats up and she blinks rapidly, furiously willing the tears to _stop_.

“Dear?” Maria murmurs, laying cool hands on Tsubasa’s cheeks, forcing her to meet Maria’s concerned gaze.

The table falls into painful silence.

She can hear her own ragged breathing, and the bated breaths of their guests.

“Tsubasa, Tsubasa, it’s okay—it’s okay, darling, everything is okay. Everyone, do you mind giving us some time, please?”

At the question, directed towards everyone else, she closes her eyes in profound shame.

“No, no, Tsubasa,” Maria whispers, squeezing Tsubasa’s cheeks and keeping her tone tender, “don’t worry about it. It’s okay. I’m here, alright? ”

There is the sound of chair legs scraping against the wooden floor, Maria’s hands leaving her for too long a moment, and then Maria’s embrace engulfs her.

She listens to Maria’s heartbeat, regulates her breathing to match it, and slowly her sobbing tapers off. Her limp arms encircle Maria’s waist.

Maria asks, “Better?”

She takes a deep breath.

Holds it.

Lets it go.

Only then does she answer, “No.”

Because now her ears burn with _shame_.

“Oh, _Tsubasa_. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Rationally, she knows she did not—emotions are independent creatures that resist control; she cannot possibly expect to be cool and collected every moment of her life. Irrationally—paradoxically, in fact—her chest constricts with distressing embarrassment, with _resentment_ towards herself.

“Tsubasa, _breathe_.”

She takes another shuddering breath, and another, and another.

“I think—I think,” she pulls away from Maria’s arms to explain, “I mean, I thought it had ceased to matter. But I remember how _lonely—”_ her voice breaks.

Maria’s eyes shimmer with angry tears.

“I cannot bear the thought of subjecting Elfnein to that loneliness. Why, _why_ did we have to come here? I could have—any other place in the city—why _here_ , of all places we could have chosen?”

“Because we didn’t want the past to dictate our present,” Maria tells her without a shred of doubt, expression alight with resolution. “And it _won’t_ , Tsubasa. We’re not condemning anyone to loneliness here, because we’re _together_ , we’re here for each other, and that makes _all_ the difference in the world!”

Despite herself, Maria’s conviction makes her smile.

Maria smiles, as well.

“There you go. It’s not hopeless, is it?”

“No, it is not,” she says, and she even believes it.

“And we’re not feeling bad because we have feelings—right? Because we’re _not_ swords, you know,” Maria peers intently at her.

Well.

_“Tsubasa_.”

She nods meekly.

Maria softens, brushing Tsubasa’s cheek with the pads of her fingers. “Good,” Maria murmurs. “We’ve come too far to fail now— _you_ have come too far to let _him_ continue hurting you like this.”

Indeed.

“Correct,” she affirms with as much resolution as Maria had demonstrated earlier.

“Are you ready to call the others back in, or do you want to wait a few more minutes?”

She wipes away the last traces of her tears, stating, “Let them come in.”

“Okay.”

Maria leaves her in the dining room.

For a brief moment, she feels her uncertainty creep back, but she murmurs, “Not now, anxiety, my old friend. I have not the time for you.” She stands, clasping her hands behind her back. “There is something I must do.”

In the next moment, all have returned, and Elfnein peers up at her with anxious concern—they all do, except for Maria, who smiles reassuringly at her.

She tells them, “I am fine. Honestly. I simply… well, it struck me how empty the house would feel without everyone here—but I know better.”

She meets Elfnein’s gaze.

“We will never be alone so long as we have each other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm staying late on campus today, so I had some time on my hands.... Honestly it wasn't supposed to turn out like this, lol, but it happened so I decided to do a double update today and post something happier tomorrow. I'm not sure how this turned out--I'm squinting at it, wondering if I over- or under- did some parts; I'm a bad judge of my own work.
> 
> Please review!


	30. 2.30 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria almost leaves Tsubasa for the barista.
> 
> Just kidding.

### THIRTY

The commute to Lydian isn’t bad, but thirty minutes waiting is long enough for her to start doing off in her seat; it’s only the fear of missing her stop that keeps her awake.

She’s already had a cup of coffee—her quota for the day is therefore, unfortunately, capped.

But she’s so _sleepy_. Apparently her caffeine tolerance is still high despite her recent attempts to cut back on it.

It won’t hurt to have another cup, right?

She stalls at the entrance plaza on campus. She _does_ have time to go to the coffee shop, and she _doesn’t_ want to fall asleep during class—Miss Akemi would _never_ forgive her—but does she _really_ need it? Can’t she stay awake through sheer willpower alone?

(A few days ago she started nodding off in second hour despite firmly telling herself she would _absolutely, positively stay awake._ )

Maybe she _should_ get that coffee….

The closer she gets to the coffee shop, the more certain she is that she needs it: her eyes droop and feel a bit dry, her feet trip over themselves every few steps, and she’s not sure what she had been thinking about before going on the tangent of coffee.

The person ahead of her in line orders a double shot—she feels her own heart beat faster in second-hand adrenaline. Silently, she wishes them good luck with the day ahead; if they’re ordering a double shot so early in the morning, then they _clearly_ need it.

“How can I help you today?” Oh, it’s the friendly, cute barista from the last time she was here a few weeks ago.

“May I have a café au lait, please? Ah, light roast,” she orders, smiling.

“Sure thing!”

Once she’s paid, she waits to the side so that she doesn’t block the flow of traffic—though, surprisingly, there aren’t that many people at this hour.

“If I didn’t have you—wouldn’t have nothing~~” the barista sings, beaming at her.

It takes her a moment, but she laughs delightedly when she recognizes the song playing on the speakers, “From Monsters, Inc.!”

“Yeah!” the barista nods enthusiastically.

The moment keeps her smiling uncontrollably as she makes her way to the teacher’s office on the other side of campus.

So much so, in fact, that she nearly trips over a dove, which coos disgruntledly and flies away.

“I’m sorry, Dove!” she calls after it.

Energy considerably lifted—thanks in large part to the coffee, of course—she nearly skips into the teacher’s office.

The heat of the building adds to the heat of her coffee, so she quickly strips off her mittens and overcoat, tucking the former away in her satchel and draping the latter over the chair.

“Not cold at all, hm?” Miss Akemi remarks from her place across Maria’s desk.

“Nope!”

Miss Akemi mutters, “Awfully chipper, as well.”

“Today is going to be a _great_ day!” she declares, barely restraining herself from pumping her fists.

“That’s the spirit, Mrs. Kazanari!” Miss Kaname cheers with her from clear across the room, and the other teachers around them laugh along.

“Have mercy on me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Partially based on a few real incidents that happened over the last couple of days, lol.
> 
> Please review! I really want to know if there's something I can improve on, if there's anything you'd like to see... stuff like that ^^


	31. 2.31 | Kirika

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirika's glad to be back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Crazy Love" by Mindy Gledhill highly recommended as soundtrack.

### THIRTY-ONE

“Ahhhhh, it’s such a beautiful day, Shirabe!”

Shirabe glances out the window.

“Hm.” She goes back to her book.

“We should go out! Walk around the city, see what’s changed while we were gone!”

“Hn.”

“Aw, why not?” She pouts, flinging herself onto the couch kitty-corner from Shirabe. “You have _oodles_ of time to read later!”

Shirabe tugs the blanket around her shoulders even tighter against herself.

“It’s not _that_ cold outside; it’s not even snowing,” she protests. “In fact,” she adds, jumping up to fling the curtains open even further, “it’s bright and sunny!—and it’s not even cold _in here_! _Shirabe!_ ”

The corners of Shirabe’s mouth twitch up as she turns the page.

Alright.

Time to bring out the big guns!

She drops down in front of Shirabe—holding back a wince at the ensuing pain in her knees—and clasps her hands beneath her chin to implore.

Classic begging pose.

Irresistible puppy-eyes.

Right in Shirabe’s line of sight.

Shirabe’s lips tighten, holding back laughter and stubbornly refusing to give in.

“Pretty please with a cup of coffee on top?”

Giving her a derisive glance, Shirabe replies, “That doesn’t make sense, Kiri.”

Thwarted!

“C’mon, it’s all boring being cooped up in here with nothing to do—aren’t you itching for an adventure?”

“Humph.”

Ah, good point. They _have_ had plenty of misadventures to last them a lifetime (though she’s willing to bet that they’ll get into plenty more eventually).

Sighing, she lets herself fall sideways onto the floor, rolling on her back to stare at the ceiling.

“If I agree, will you stop abusing your body like that?”

She jolts upright, agreeing, “Yes! I promise!”

Dark eyes appraise her veracity for a long moment; she makes herself as still as a statue, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from smiling uncontrollably.

“Okay.”

“Yes!” She gets up—exaggeratedly slowly—as Shirabe marks her place in her book. “Do you want to go anywhere in particular, or can we just wander around?”

“First, let’s find someplace to eat. It’s lunchtime but we don’t have a shred of food here in the apartment.”

Ah, food! How could she have forgotten!

She gushes, “ _Excellent_ idea, Shirabe! Let’s go!” and makes to dash out the front door—only to get her shirt collar snagged by Shirabe’s unrelenting fingers.

“But _before_ that, Kiri,” Shirabe scolds her, dragging her to the coat rack, “you have to dress appropriately. _I’m_ not the one who’s going to be complaining when she gets forced into bed rest because she didn’t take the cold weather into account.”

Deflating, she mutters, “Good point.” She tugs on her coat, checking the pockets to make sure her mittens are in there, and stands as still as possible so that Shirabe can wind the scarf around her neck _without_ accidentally strangling her.

She moves to the doorway where their shoes are, but stuffing her feet into her loafers doesn’t take long at all. Then she has to wait for Shirabe to finish: sweater first, scarf second, mantle third, gloves fourth, ear mufflers fifth, and boots last.

The boots part takes _forever_.

“I keep telling you, Shirabe, loafers are _much_ faster and easier to put on!”

Shirabe rolls her eyes as she adjusts the legs of her jeans, “Not everyone is in such a hurry like you, Kiri.”

Luckily she doesn’t get much time to sulk, because Shirabe bounds up and takes her hand, once again tugging her along.

Outside, the winter sun gleams brightly, as if it were summer instead.

She takes a deep breath—and it’s not cold at all!

They walk, taking random turns, and her eyes flit around with every passing fancy.

“Here?” Shirabe has pulled them to a stop in front of a little café beneath a bridge. She’s not sure where they are—weeks abroad have made a lot of things blur together—but she likes it.

There’s a catchy tune playing from the speakers, barely audible over the traffic behind them; Shirabe has to elbow her in the side to get her to stop bobbing her head and humming along in order to place their orders with the friendly old man who is even _more_ silent than Shirabe.

Wow! She hadn’t known that that’s possible.

“D’you know where we are?” she asks while they wait, spinning her stool around to face the street. The little street sign across catches her eye: 31st Street.

“Hn.”

Yep, Shirabe doesn’t know where they are, either. Possibly the business quarter? Or not?

“Mm, well, it’s no big deal if we get lost. We can just call Chris!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of Mindy Gledhill's songs make me feel in love, lol. That's why this chapter is ShiraKiri; I honestly hadn't had any plans to feature a chapter from their pov, but the muse insisted. Also, for Shirabe's "character song," I really recommend "All About Your Heart" by Mindy Gledhill.
> 
> I dunno what I want to do for Femslash February. Someone's asked for a continuation of "Roses Are Red," and I've also been asked for some ShiraKiri chapters on what they did on their trip, so I could go for that, too...? Except I don't travel and don't get out much, either, lol. Romance is _hard_ when you're single -- I'm not at all like Nozaki-kun, heh.
> 
> Anyway.
> 
> Please review!


	32. 2.32 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all fun and games until she's forced to remember.

### THIRTY-TWO

Mrs. Tsubasa always orders the same thing when they come to the diner, but she encourages Elfnein to try different entries from the diner’s traditionalist menu, many of which she’s never seen before.

Honestly, though, rice balls are her favorite, so she orders those every time she can. They’re not much, compared to everything else, but they’re so… versatile, and easy to eat, and they come in such cute shapes!

Nonetheless, today she has determined that she will have something new.

The waiter comes by with their drinks—always tea for Mrs. Tsubasa and a glass of orange juice for Elfnein this time—and he asks them if they’re ready to order.

Mrs. Tsubasa glances to her for confirmation.

Nodding, she asks, “C-can I have the—um, the grilled mackerel…?”

“Of course, miss.”

“Ah, likewise for myself, along with a couple of cucumber salads, a beef and potato stew, and brown rice,” Mrs. Tsubasa adds.

“It will be ready shortly.” The waiter bows away, taking their menus with him.

She’s a bit surprised that Mrs. Tsubasa didn’t go for her usual miso soup; her surprise must show on her face, because Mrs. Tsubasa murmurs, looking out the window and blushing a bit, “They say that one cannot teach an old dog new tricks, but I am not so old, yes?”

Giggling, she agrees.

Even though Mrs. Tsubasa sometimes slips into an old-fashioned form of speech that leaves Elfnein scrambling to understand, Mrs. Tsubasa herself isn’t old.

“Say, Elfnein,” Mrs. Tsubasa begins, looking back at her, “not to pry, and you are not obliged to answer, but I would like to know… how is it that you are so adept with Japanese? Maria, for one, still has difficulty with kanji, and I know I am complete rubbish at English….”

Oh.

Another surprising thing: this hasn’t come up before.

Then again, she hasn’t talked too much about herself (her Carol voice asks her if she’s _ashamed_ or _scared_ ), and Mrs. Tsubasa and Mrs. Maria have so far respected that, so it shouldn’t be such a surprise.

“Elfnein? As I said, please do not feel that you must answer. It is but idle curiosity,” Mrs. Tsubasa hastily retracts her question, fiddling with her tea cup.

“Oh, um…, i-it’s okay. A lot of Papa’s associates were Japanese… so we—I sort of picked it up, and Papa gave us—gave me lessons.” She shrugs, picking at her napkin and hunching her shoulders. “It’s easier now. I’ve forgotten a lot of my German.”

The thought makes her sad, because she’s losing what little she has left of her old home.

“We can… if you would like, we can find you a tutor,” Mrs. Tsubasa offers.

Before she can reply that she’d rather not, the waiter comes back with their food. They thank him, and then the conversation stalls while they eat.

She wonders if she should break the silence.

Maybe she’s met her bravery quota for the day.

Ha.

“Maria attempted to teach me English several times. She could scarcely believe how atrocious I was,” Mrs. Tsubasa suddenly murmurs, a wry smile on her face.

Curiosity peaked, she asks, “B-but why?” Why is it such a big deal that Mrs. Tsubasa can’t speak English?

“She wondered how I had hit singles in over thirty-two English-speaking countries and yet could not speak a word of the language,” Mrs. Tsubasa shrugs, “although my manager wanted me to sign on with a major London label, I ultimately decided to end my music career, and so I had no need to learn.”

“Y-you were a s-singer?”

Now _this_ is news.

Mrs. Tsubasa nods, bashful—and a little bit sad?

“Zwei Wing,” she says with a note of aching wistfulness. “Kanade and I used to dream about becoming idols.” Mrs. Tsubasa laughs—that sad type of laughter that isn’t _really_ laughter. “Many things went awry. I released an album just before I met Maria, and another afterwards that heavily featured her, but it simply was not the same for me, and I felt that I would be of better use elsewhere.”

Mrs. Tsubasa spreads her hands, palms up, in a resigned gesture as she states, “Thus I have lost touch with music. A part of me is glad for it, because it is so tied to certain memories. Another part of me misses it, but not enough to return.”

She nods.

That’s exactly how she feels.

“Ah, but the difference, Elfnein, is that I have not let myself recover; the… incident last night was not an isolated one. I have preferred to let these painful aspects of my life fade into the background—it is what I do best, some might say, and they would not be wrong. I am something of a coward.”

She finds the courage in herself to protest, “But it’s not running away. Y-you just—put it out of y-your thoughts until it doesn’t b-bother you anymore, right? Isn’t that what it means t-to g-get over it?”

Mrs. Tsubasa frowns.

Isn’t it?

Because she can’t imagine _ever_ being _okay_ with Papa’s—Papa’s _death_.

“I have lost many people,” Mrs. Tsubasa says, folding her napkin with slow movements. “The only death I have come to accept is my mother’s death—and that only because she played such a fleeting role in my life. I barely knew her; indeed, I have no memory at all of her.

“Kanade, however. I could not imagine living my life without her and, by association, music. I only sang because _she_ sang. I only performed because _she_ performed. She sought to encourage me so that I could be my own person, but it never worked. I have always been weak in the face of my emotions.

“This is why I insist that you face your grief, Elfnein.” Mrs. Tsubasa leans forward, still with that sad frown.

She looks away, stabs her fork into a cucumber and nibbles at it so that she doesn’t have to respond.

Mrs. Tsubasa sighs.

“I apologize, Elfnein. I did not mean to taint our meal with such heavy thoughts. Although I hope that you think on what I have said, you are your own person. You know best how to confront your past.”

There aren’t any tears this time. She thinks she might have cried herself dry—and she knows that she doesn’t want to think about it any sooner than she has to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another heavy chapter, ha. Building up to what we'll eventually see in Arc III.
> 
> Please review!


	33. 2.33 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria does damage control.

### THIRTY-THREE

As soon as she steps off the train, she knows something isn’t right.

Tsubasa has her shoulders thrown back, her hands clasped behind her, and her chin angled downwards: a stance that she knows is still deeply ingrained in Tsubasa, no matter how much time has passed; it’s still second-nature for Tsubasa.

Elfnein, on the other hand, is fidgeting with her sleeve cuff. She might have picked up that habit from Tsubasa, or maybe it’s always been Elfnein’s nervous tick. She wishes she knew.

They both look guilty. It’s not the “fun” type of guilty.

It’s the heart-wrenching kind—the kind that isn’t either of their faults, no matter what they think, and it’s her job now to help them see that.

“Let’s go home,” she murmurs, brushing her fingers against Elfnein’s shoulder and laying a firmer hand on Tsubasa’s bicep. “Nothing is irreparable.”

Well, she muses on the silent ride home, _many_ things are irreparable.

But that’s just the way the world works, isn’t it?

Once they get home, she herds them both to the kitchen for a few reasons: she’s hungry, it’s a less pressure-inducing atmosphere, and it gives them something to do with their hands (a lesson that comes as second-nature to her after such a long time knowing Tsubasa).

She has a couple of light sandwiches ready for them first, and then she takes her time choosing something heartier for herself.

“How did your day go?” she asks them while she waits for the leftovers of their lunch to heat up.

(She’s a bit concerned that there are leftovers. She wonders if Tsubasa has eaten properly since breakfast; her guess is that no, Tsubasa hasn’t.)

Tsubasa mumbles, “Well—until the conversation strayed to… to the topic of….” Tsubasa grows even stiffer and her eyes stay firmly on the far wall. “Death,” she whispers.

Elfnein only stares forlornly at her sandwich, shoulders slumped and chin nearly meeting her chest.

She sighs.

This is a conversation that should have been _planned_ , not brought up _spontaneously_.

People are fragile.

Certain wounds are only healed on the surface. Press too hard and a lifetime’s worth of pain will come welling up.

“It’s something that never goes away. That’s why it’s up to us to decide how we will live with it.”

She takes a deep breath.

“Thirty-three years ago I lost my biological parents. I was a year old, and my little sister only _days_ old; they were strangers to us, so my pain came later, from a litany of ‘maybe.’ Maybe, if they had lived, things wouldn’t have gone so _badly_. Maybe, if they had lived, so would have Serena. Maybe—maybe not.

“Losing Nastassja was a different type of pain: that was the pain of losing a _true_ parent, someone I had dared to believe would be with me for a long, long time to come.

“But reality was that my parents—all of them—were gone and weren’t coming back. So I had to come to a decision. I had to decide how death would be a part of my life: would I linger on what-ifs, or wish for them to return until I gave up? Would I turn my grief into anger to take out on the world? Would I bury it, never to see the light of day, never to think of it ever again?”

Elfnein is trembling, tears on the brink of falling.

Tsubasa can’t look away from Elfnein; Tsubasa’s hands are clenched into fists.

“I tried all but the last option. _I_ couldn’t try to forget. That simply wouldn’t work for me, though I’m sure Tsubasa told you that she tried.

“What you choose, Elfnein, is up to _you_. We just want you to be happy with what you choose, because we’ve been there. We’re _still_ there. That’s why we know that, in the long run, some paths hurt more than others, and we want to spare you that pain whenever and wherever possible.”

Tsubasa murmurs at last, “I am sorry, Elfnein.” She stretches out a hand towards Elfnein.

Elfnein hesitates, but she takes it, and the tension bleeds out of Tsubasa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another serious chapter. Things will lighten up soon, I hope.
> 
> Please review!


	34. 2.34 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria comforts Tsubasa.

### THIRTY-FOUR

She takes Maria in her arms.

Breathes in the sweet scents of Maria’s perfume and shampoo.

Absorbs the warmth that Maria radiates.

Exhales.

Confesses, “I thought I overstepped my boundaries. I thought I hurt her.”

“You did,” Maria tells her, breath tickling Tsubasa’s cheek. “And she forgave you. You meant to help, because you know what it’s like to never let go. She understands your intentions. Please don’t beat yourself up over it, Tsubasa.”

She sighs, tries to keep away the telltale prick in her eyes.

Maria murmurs—in a strange mix of fondness and sadness—“You’ve always been a bit of a crybaby.”

_“You’ve always been a bit of a crybaby, haven’t you?”_

Words said with such tender affection, without a trace of regret as Kanade’s life faded away.

They have echoed in her mind for such a long time now.

She inhales again, reminding herself that even if Kanade is long gone, her life is not bereft of human touch. She has Maria, and she has Elfnein, and she has Chris, Kirika, Shirabe, Genjuurou, her father… she is not lonely anymore.

It may haunt her, seeking to return her to those dark days, but she knows better.

She exhales.

Maria brings her hands up, flattening her palms over Tsubasa’s shoulder blades.

They remain thusly for a few minutes before she decides she can bear to part.

“…While I appreciate the sentiment, should we not check on Elfnein?” she asks, beginning to pull away—except Maria refuses to let go. “Maria?”

Maria says, “Maybe I feel like hugging you for an extended period of time, okay? Geez, can’t a woman show affection to her wife without being questioned?” Her arms shift along Tsubasa’s back minutely.

It dawns on her what Maria is doing; she smirks, “You’ve gotten your rings ensnared in my sweater again, have you not?”

“Oh, my god, how many times has this been?” Maria groans, going limp against Tsubasa and giving up all pretenses to deception.

She chuckles, “Thirty-four and counting.”

“You’ve been _keeping track?!_ ”

Well, her tally might be a bit off, but Maria does not need to know that particular detail.

“I think I shall need to obtain sweaters of a different material, else you will end up leaving me threadbare in the midst of winter.”

Taking a step back, she hears the tell-tale snap of the thread breaking.

“ _Tsubasa_!”

“Though, I truly should have seen this coming—it happens every year.”

She gets a slap to her shoulder for her efforts.

She cannot stop smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something happier, yeah?


	35. 2.35 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As it turns out, adults are pretty interesting to observe.

** THIRTY-FIVE **

Mrs. Maria giggles, “Your tie is crooked.”

Mrs. Tsubasa mutters, “Whose fault is that, hm?” and Mrs. Maria giggles again.

“Hush, you!”

“You wound me, dearest.”

“Oh, _now_ you’re all cuddly with me, humph,” Mrs. Maria retorts with fake petulance.

Watching (or hearing) adults be romantically affectionate with each other is… a bit weird. She’s never seen anything like it—because Papa had been their sole parent, and then at the orphanage the couples who had visited had been mindful of their environment.

It doesn’t _bother_ her, or embarrass her.

It simply _is_ —and, in some inexplicable way, it’s… _reassuring_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I broke my pattern but it's a 100 words even and it felt right, so I left it at this.
> 
> I may or may not post more tonight.


	36. 2.36 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first school visit, part one.

### THIRTY-SIX

Heart aflutter, it’s practically instinctive when she latches onto Mrs. Tsubasa’s hand.

Except, once she realizes what she’s done, she turns red and tries to pull away while Mrs. Tsubasa’s still frozen in astonishment.

“I—I do not mind,” Mrs. Tsubasa murmurs, briefly tightening her grip on Elfnein’s hand and then going lax, “but only if it is acceptable to you.”

She would dither, but they’re in the middle of the sidewalk (people, so many people walking around them) and they’re only a block away from the school and Carol’s not here anymore to make fun of her for needing someone to hold her hand—she takes Mrs. Tsubasa’s hand again.

Mrs. Tsubasa smiles.

Just a few minutes later, however, in front of North Prefectural Elementary School, she remembers her nerves; the name alone is enough to make her stop in her tracks yet again as she stares up at the red brick building that seems to completely dwarf her.

(Has she ever felt so _small_?)

(Well, okay, she’s not _that_ small and the school buildings aren’t _that_ tall, just a few stories and a short clock tower at the center. It’s like the buildings in the city. But still.)

The shiny wooden double doors look heavy, but Mrs. Tsubasa easily holds one open for her.

Inside, there are rows and rows of cubbyholes with outdoor shoes neatly tucked away; it reminds her of a similar arrangement at the orphanage, though that had been on a smaller scale.

“This way,” Mrs. Tsubasa murmurs, gesturing to a hallway on the left.

There, in a room full of polished wood, a smiling secretary welcomes them, confirms their appointment, and gives them slippers to wear while indoors. They leave their shoes in a guest cubbyhole.

Another person takes them on a tour of the school.

“We at North Prefecture Elementary School—” that is a mouthful—“believe in encouraging our students to pursue careers in the sciences from an early age. To this end, we have smaller class sizes so that our teachers can better focus on individual students, we host guest speakers from universities and businesses every month, and we have a science fair at the end of each school year that is open to any and all of our students who wish to participate.”

…She supposes that sounds nice? It’s not like she has any personal experience to refer to.

But Mrs. Tsubasa nods along, looking intensely focused.

“How many instructors to the school?”

“Thirty-six, Mrs. Kazanari, to accommodate the smaller class sizes; our parent community strongly endorses the school’s policies in this matter.”

It’s all going over her head—also, _she_ had one teacher and one classmate and that didn’t turn out so well for her patched-up education.

Maybe that was just Papa and Carol, though.

She perks up considerably when the aide takes them to the school’s library.

It’s _a lot_ bigger than the institution’s library!

Can she go to a school based on its library alone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts on how the rest of the school visit should go? This is all off the top of my head with some minor research thrown in... lol.


	37. 2.37 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School-hunting, part two. They're both a bit out of their depths.

“…and our sixth grade classrooms are on the third floor. You mentioned that your daughter is in the fifth grade?”

Her heart skips a beat though she nods calmly, “Correct.”

“Then perhaps you would like to visit a class before your meeting with the principal,” their guide offers. “None of the teachers would mind having you sit in for a few minutes.”

Elfnein’s hand tightens in hers, but Elfnein nods.

“We would appreciate it,” she accepts.

“Then, follow me this way. We will slip in through a back door, so as to not accidentally cause a ruckus.” He takes them to a classroom denoted 5-B, sliding the door carefully.

They slip in, the teacher pausing momentarily in her lesson but recovering quickly. A few students notice their entrance, prompting their guide to gesture for the students to return to their work.

Elfnein steps slightly behind her, ducking away from the stares of a few persistent students.

It reminds her of when she used to hide behind her uncle whenever she felt her anxiety flare up beyond her control; now, she is not quite the same imposing figure as her uncle, but she fixes the students with a stern frown until they look away. They should, after all, be minding their lessons.

“Who can,” the teacher raises her voice, “solve this problem on the board for us?”

Several hands go up, the teacher chooses a student near the front, and the student voices aloud the steps as she solves the problem.

“Good, Miss Sakura. Now, can someone else solve the second problem, but _incorrectly_?”

Her brow furrows as she wonders why an instructor would ask a student to solve something incorrectly on purpose.

Once again, a student voices aloud the steps he takes, arriving to an erroneous conclusion.

“Miss Sakura, can you tell me where Mister Smith made the mistake?”

Ah.

How intriguing.

They stay for the duration of a couple more problems before their guide ushers them outside.

“While our curricula follows the national standard, our teachers are known for their innovative instructional methods, which are shared amongst the staff at monthly meetings. Parents also have a say in this at the monthly Parent-Teacher Organization meetings.” The guide pauses for breath, then continues, “We take the education of our students seriously, as I’m sure you have noticed.”

Quite so, she agrees, but ultimately this is for Elfnein, and the only parts Elfnein seemed genuinely interested in were the library and chemistry labs; though, it _is_ understandable that Elfnein would shirk away from the classes themselves, given her own experience with social anxiety.

“I think we have seen enough,” she says, prompting the guide to nod.

“Then I will take you back to our main office to speak with our principal.”

She glances at Elfnein as they retrace their steps to the front of the school.

Elfnein looks back at her, shrugging helplessly.

“Fret not, we have time to make a decision later on,” she murmurs, bringing up her free hand to tentatively tousle Elfnein’s hair, just as her uncle used to do.

Elfnein grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review! Also, I promise I'll be updating tomorrow.


	38. 2.38 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suburban (not really) moms have lunch, ft. Miku.

### THIRTY-EIGHT

She spots Miku waiting at an outdoor table, frowning at a paper in her hands.

“Bit chilly to eat outside, isn’t it?” she remarks as she takes the seat across from Miku, who laughs and puts down the paper.

“It is, but I’ve spent the morning holed up in my office, completing some paperwork, so I’m glad for the breath of fresh air, cold as it is.”

Shaking her head, she says, “The countryside is much better for that, you know.”

“Close enough,” Miku shrugs, sliding a menu towards her.

Hm, what should she order today? Probably something she knows she likes, since Tsubasa’s not here to eat the leftovers… and she feels like indulging a little, to make up for not being able to go with Tsubasa and Elfnein to their first school visit. Also, as she pointed out earlier, it’s cold.

In that case, best to go with the cheddar cheese and broccoli soup, she decides, putting down her menu.

A waiter takes their orders, brings them their drinks—coffee for Miku and cranberry juice for Maria—and then they wait for their meals.

“We haven’t seen you all in some time,” Miku notes, gesturing slightly with her cup, “not since your birthday party a month ago. Hibiki’s still complaining that you didn’t let her throw you a farewell party—she’s even more disappointed, though, that you won’t be at the Second Division’s winter party, you know.”

She grins at the fond exasperation in Miku’s voice.

“It would’ve been too embarrassing, too personal for Tsubasa, and we didn’t want to make a big fuss, not so early on,” she explains, biting the inside of her cheek so that she doesn’t start smiling like crazy.

“Which is what _I_ said, but Hibiki’s stubborn,” Miku sighs, shaking her head. “Tell me that you’ve been well, at least.”

“All things considered? I’d say we’re doing pretty well with the adjustment,” she replies, giving in to a proud smile. “I’m glad Tsubasa is finally facing her past, her fears, after pushing it away for so long. Elfnein is starting to relax, too; she’s getting comfortable with the idea of relying on us.”

“But how about you? I know you have a tendency to forget about yourself, Maria.”

She laughs and says wryly, “I never thought I’d say this, but I think I’m the most well-adjusted person in that house—Tsubasa tries, and I’d _never_ place such a burden on Elfnein, but I don’t mind being the one taken for granted. It’s my forte, you know, and it makes me happy to help them find themselves.”

“That’s not the question I asked,” Miku reprimands, shaking her head minutely.

Parenthood, it seems, has changed Miku.

“I’m fine,” she waves away the question. “Seriously. I miss Mom a lot, and having Kirika, Shirabe, and Chris over made things harder, but—I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. But, ah, there’s _one_ thing I’m worried about.”

Miku smirks, “I know. So, what is it?”

“How did you and Hibiki choose a school for Carol?”

“Well,” Miku takes a sip of her coffee, “with Carol it was a question more of which school was closest to us so that we would be readily available, and which school was willing and best able to help us with her specific needs. Everything else had to come secondary to that—health before all else.”

As expected from a renowned surgeon.

“Elfnein doesn’t seem to be concerned about distance so long as it’s in the city, so we’ve been using her primary interest in the sciences to narrow our search. I’m just not sure if there’s something in particular I should be looking for,” she says, frowning.

“Don’t overthink it,” Miku advises. “When she’s thirty-eight it won’t matter what elementary school she went to, now will it? This isn’t going to make or break her life— _that_ is on you.”

Groaning, she buries her face in her hands. “Way to make me feel anxious,” she mumbles through her fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might not update tomorrow; we'll see.
> 
> Please review!


	39. 2.39 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria tries her hand at being a marriage counselor; they just need a little push. Ft. Miku.

### THIRTY-NINE

“See, Tsubasa didn’t stay in the Second Division because she necessarily _wanted_ to, right? It was a—a misguided sense of duty to her family that had her tethered there.”

“That’s… more or less right, in simplified terms,” she agrees.

Miku points her fork at Maria, “And that’s exactly why the situation is different. Hibiki didn’t stay out of a sense of _obligation_. She stays because she _wants_ to. It makes her happy, helping people in ways no one else can. How am I supposed to tell her to leave that behind just because I’m worried that one of these days I won’t be able to patch her back up?

“Hibiki, my Hibiki, isn’t only _mine_ —she’s a hero to many, many people out there. Yes, there’s a chance that she won’t come back one of these days, but there’s also a _greater_ chance that she will. It’s a gamble I have to take every time she leaves.”

She is not at all qualified to be a marriage counselor; she hopes that she won’t become the reason a marriage ends (don’t be so melodramatic, Tsubasa would scold her) in trying to help.

“What, exactly, brought this on? I know you have been arguing about this on and off over the years… it’s a bit difficult _not_ to notice, honestly,” she laughs sheepishly, recalling many times when she found Hibiki slumped dejectedly over a cup of coffee because she had slept on the couch.

“Since you and Tsubasa retired, Hibiki’s been wary that I’ll ask her to do the same.” Miku smiles wryly, “And she’s not wrong.”

“Maybe you’ve tried this already, but how about a compromise?” she suggests.

Miku grumbles, “There’s no holding back for Hibiki—it’s all or nothing. She used to be late all the time to class because she was out helping cats stuck in trees and little old ladies crossing the street. She almost missed our own wedding because she got caught up in catching some dictator on her way back from her mission!”

Gently, knowing she’s treading on thin ground here, she prompts, “But she’s stayed home for you when it matters most, hasn’t she?”

Miku’s expression pinches; she fears she’s gone too far, bringing up not-so-old wounds, but Miku shakes her head.

“That was… an extreme situation,” Miku half-heartedly protests, though her shoulders drop, tension leaving her. “You have a point. I suppose I haven’t changed after all.” She chuckles weakly.

“I think it doesn’t matter how reasonable the solution is. If you’re not ready to accept it, then you simply aren’t. Everyone has that particular—” she waves her hand in a vague gesture, not wanting to say _problem_ , per se—“a particular limit, you know, that you can’t cross until the time is right for you.”

For example, Tsubasa: the time hadn’t been right, Tsubasa hadn’t been ready, until now. It doesn’t make Tsubasa any less of a person for being unable to look her past in the eye.

But she keeps that to herself, making a note to bring this up with Tsubasa soon.

“Thank you, Maria,” Miku nods, smiling faintly (to Maria’s eternal relief—she would rather _not_ have Hibiki slamming their door down to demand why her sunshine came home cloudy).

“I’m glad to have helped.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems that "Counting Stars" got a bit more attention overnight (literally, for me). I'm very glad! ^^
> 
> Please review!


	40. 2.40 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elfnein inches closer to facing some hidden fears (Maria's on a roll, giving advice left and right).

### FORTY

“It looks like we’re due for a light snowfall this winter,” Mrs. Tsubasa comments as she peruses through a farmer’s almanac. “The effects of global warming, though my flowers will appreciate it nonetheless.”

Glancing up from her own perusal of the history of the farmlands around the Kazanari estate, she asks, “Isn’t it bad for the environment?”

“Quite. That is why the Kazanari have begun implementing ecologically-sound agriculture practices; I suspect that by the end of the next year all our lands will be modernized to the appropriate standard.” Mrs. Tsubasa nods gravely at the book in Elfnein’s hands and says, “We are heavily influential in the land around us. It is our duty to take that influence seriously.”

“Enough about duty, you two.”

“Maria!”

“Mrs. Maria!”

With an exasperated grin and shake of her head, Mrs. Maria asks, “You didn’t notice the train come in, did you?”

They both blink. Had forty minutes already passed?

“I thought so,” Mrs. Maria sighs, tugging Mrs. Tsubasa to her feet. They exchange a quick peck before Mrs. Maria ushers them all to the car.

“I want to hear all about your second school visit—today you went to Gasai Elementary School, right?”

“Yes,” Elfnein replies, because Mrs. Tsubasa has begun to drive (she wonders, has it already been so long, that she’s adapted to routine?). “It’s smaller than North Prefectural, but the classes are bigger and they have an academic pentathlon instead of a science fair at the end of the year.”

Having choices is an odd thing; it makes her tremble, shake like a leaf a little bit, but at the same time she’s… cautiously excited.

(And it’s equally odd to not have Carol around to mock her for being “cautiously excited.” Is that good or bad?)

“Did you like it?” Mrs. Maria’s question draws Elfnein out of her thoughts. “It’s a popular school, according to a few teachers at Lydian.”

“U-um, well, I think it was o-okay. It was… a b-bit intense,” she mumbles the last part, half-hoping that they won’t hear, but Mrs. Maria catches on.

Echoing, “A bit intense?” Mrs. Maria looks in askance at her, waiting for clarification.

“The general atmosphere of the school seemed to exert more pressure on its students than North Prefectural had,” Mrs. Tsubasa comments, glancing back at them briefly through the rearview mirror.

She nods weakly.

(Elfnein, always wilting under pressure.)

Mrs. Maria says gently, “Elfnein, we care about your education, but we care about _you_ as a person first and foremost. _You_ come before everything else, okay? The future will still be there when we’re ready, even if it takes us years.”

She nods again, meekly this time, because she doesn’t know what to say.

“Anxiety can be a mean-spirited, unhelpful thing,” Mrs. Maria continues, her fingertips brushing Elfnein’s shoulder. “Our thoughts sometimes trick us into thinking there is danger where there isn’t. I find that it’s easier to stay calm if I hold onto some positive thoughts.”

Positive thoughts?

Hold onto positive thoughts—maybe she can do that.

Yes, yes she can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In an alternate world where the Gasai parents established a school instead of a bank... lol.
> 
> Eh, there's another chapter I'm uploading at the same time. It's done in a different style than usual, so I'd appreciate some thoughts on #41.


	41. 2.41 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsubasa dreams, and some parallels that are half on purpose, half not on purpose.

### FORTY-ONE

She wakes.

The rain patters softly against the roof. Maria is a warm, heavy weight on her right side. Their room is dark in the absence of moon and starlight.

She breathes.

Pitter-patter.

Creak, whistle—a gap in the shutters, somewhere.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

A flash of lightning, a rumble.

Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.

Tick, tick, tick— _“The seconds slip through your fingers, the minutes crawl by, and suddenly the hour is past.”_

Maria shifts.

Gentle breeze alights on her nose and cheeks. Here, too, a window is open.

Creak, groan, whistle.

Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter.

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

_“F-Father… I c-can’t sleep.”_

_“The thunder is nothing to fear.”_

_“I’m not scared. I-I’m just r-restless, I-I t-think.”_

Pitter-patter.

Swoosh; rustle, flutter, and a sigh.

_“Nature’s pull, hm? A yearning in the soul.”_

Jingling keys, gleaming bronze in the dim light of her father’s study.

Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.

_“Do you want to walk, or drive?”_

Heartbeat quickens, _“M-may w-we w-walk, Father?”_

The dull thud of wooden cabinets being shut.

_“You must dress appropriately for this, Tsubasa. Remember that Grandfather will visit tomorrow.”_

_“I-I will!”_

Creak and groan. Squeak and moan.

Her bedroom washed white by lightening; thunder grumbling at being left behind.

Tick, tick, tick.

Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter.

Squelch; splish and splash.

Her hands clasped behind her back, her raincoat squeaking. Her breath mists in the air and the petrichor of the night settles on her cool cheeks and deep in her lungs.

Pitter-patter, drumming against Father’s umbrella as he holds it above them. He is a dark silhouette, shrouded in his heavy cloak, beside her with his own set of splish-splash footsteps.

Orange light winks just ahead; one of their lanterns.

They pass by it.

Father is smiling.

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

_“Sleepy already, Tsubasa? Then, let me carry you back in, lest you fall into a puddle, my dear.”_

Maria shifts.

Inhale, exhale—pause.

Had she been dreaming?

Blinks, and the darkness does not change.

The sweetness of Maria’s scent, the softness of Maria’s skin against her fingertips, and Maria’s elbow digging into her side.

Extracting herself from Maria is no simple feat, and Maria’s half-slumbering murmur asks, “Where’re you goin’?”

“Out for a walk,” she whispers back, smoothing the covers around Maria. “I will return soon.”

“M’kay,” Maria sighs.

Pitter-patter, pitter-patter. She needs to make sure nothing has flooded, but her first stop is Elfnein’s bedroom.

The door slides open with barely a rustle, yet—

“M-Mrs. Tsubasa?”

She blinks against the low light that jars her out of the soft darkness.

“Elfnein?”

“S-sorry, M-Mrs. Tsubasa,” Elfnein scrambles, stuffing a book beneath her pillow. “I d-didn’t m-mean to w-wake y-you.”

It takes her a second to shake her head and reassure Elfnein, “No, you did not wake me, and I do not mind. However, you _should_ be sleeping, Elfnein, at this late hour.”

They both squint at the clock on the bedside table.

_12:41_

Ah, it is not as late as she thought. Time is a curious thing.

“I l-lost track of time,” Elfnein admits, blushing, “the rain is g-good background noise.”

“Quite so,” she murmurs.

Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter.

“Do you want to accompany me as I check around the house? I woke a few minutes ago with the sudden urge to inspect the premises. That is, if you are not too tired.”

Elfnein brightens and nods eagerly, saying, “I’m not tired yet.”

But she will be soon enough.

“Then, dress warmly, for we will be stepping outside for a bit,” she says, stepping away.

“What about you, Mrs. Tsubasa?”

She looks back at Elfnein’s question, smiling.

“An umbrella is enough for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review! I really want to know what you thought of this one in particular.


	42. 2.42 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elfnein and Tsubasa visit Matsuoka Elementary School.

### FORTY-TWO

She notices, as they walk from the bus station to the school, that the neighborhoods around Matsuoka Elementary School are greener: pine trees line every street, little playgrounds intersperse the houses, and the gardens almost overflow with flowers of every color in the rainbow.

 _Matsuoka_.

 _Matsu-oka_.

It makes sense, since the school is literally called “Pine Hill.”

Will the school also be covered in trees and grass and flowers?

“Penny for your thoughts?”

She glances up at Mrs. Tsubasa, who smiles, her free hand reaching up to tug down her scarf.

“I was wondering what the school will look like,” she says, “because it’s not in the middle of the city, like the other schools are.”

“Ah, I have the pamphlet somewhere here; it has several portraits of the school,” Mrs. Tsubasa replies, digging through her satchel. “Somewhere, somewhere… where did I leave it?”

Mrs. Tsubasa loses her stuff a lot—come to think of it, didn’t she leave some papers at the flower shop when they stopped by earlier? What if the pamphlet got left behind there, too?

With a sigh, Mrs. Tsubasa gives up, remarking, “Well, we shall see soon enough.”

Yeah, she has a sneaking suspicion that the pamphlet ended up on Mrs. Tsubasa’s desk at the flower shop.

But she doesn’t get a chance to tell Mrs. Tsubasa, because they come to a stop in front of the school (whoops, she hadn’t noticed time go by so quickly).

A man stands outside the blue gates, bouncing on his toes and fiddling with his blue tie—his entire suit is blue, even his shiny dress shoes, and when she looks up, beyond him, it makes sense: Matsuoka Elementary School has blue roofs and blue doors and blue accents along the walls.

She remembers the picture of this school catching her eye last week.

“Hello there! Mrs. Kazanari and Miss Dienheim, I presume?” the man calls out.

Mrs. Tsubasa cautiously responds, “Correct.”

He sticks out his hand, grinning and introducing himself, “I am Satoshi Fukube, the principal of our wonderful Matsuoka! Pleased, charmed, honored to meet you both.” He offers his hand to Elfnein.

Uh.

She shakes it; his hand is warm and thin.

“Likewise, Mr. Fukube,” Mrs. Kazanari bows slightly. “We are thankful that you have allowed us this opportunity.”

“Nonsense, the pleasure is mine! Please, follow me and I shall show you why!”

Mr. Fukube whirls around on a heel and strides purposefully towards the school.

“Quite the energetic person,” Mrs. Tsubasa murmurs, momentarily looking overwhelmed.

They catch up to Mr. Fukube just as he begins to gesture at the open grounds around them.

Following his movements, she notices that Matsuoka is designed differently than the other two schools she visited; it is not a single enormous building with two wings, but rather has multiple, single-story buildings scattered on expansive grounds. And yes, there are lots of pine trees, true to the school’s name.

She glances back at Mr. Fukube, who has been speaking for some time now.

“…distinguishes us most from most elementary schools is our emphasis on club activity. The wonderful thing about clubs is that they are free of the pressure that the classroom inevitably exerts upon its students, yet at the same time, the clubs encourage and challenge students to explore the myriad of learning opportunities out there in our wide world!

“Here at Matsuoka, we have a grand total of forty-tw0 clubs available to our students—a large number, comparable to many middle schools in the area, which allows us to give great _breadth_ , if not depth. Depth is, of course, given later on, at higher levels of education. At this point in their lives, students should not be worried about _depth_ ; they should be _enjoying_ themselves in discovering where their interests and passions lay.”

Mr. Fukube gestures towards an awards case they pass by, “And we hold our own against such schools as North Prefectural, Gasai, Romans Academy, and even St. Andrew’s! It just goes to show that succeeding and having fun needn’t be mutually exclusive!

“That isn’t, of course, to say we are not invested in our curriculum proper. All our teachers are dedicated to bringing quality education to each and every one of our students. We have tutoring hours afterschool for each department, and we have quarterly meetings with students and their parents—and more often, if the parent so wishes it. Additionally…”

.

.

.

Mr. Fukube waves them goodbye from the school gates.

“Any thoughts after that barrage of information?” Mrs. Tsubasa wryly asks as they walk away from Matsuoka, with its pines and blue buildings. “I must say, Mr. Fukube sounded more like a spokesperson than a principal at times.”

She laughs, feeling undeniably giddy.

“I think I want to go here, Mrs. Tsubasa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fukube likes to run his mouth, eh? Perhaps I copped out of a proper chapter, considering the mini time skip at the end, but I think it worked out.
> 
> (And is it just me, or am I losing readers the longer I go on? Ah, well.)
> 
> Please review!


	43. 2.43 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more introspective thoughts.

** FORTY-THREE **

Watching Elfnein take Tsubasa’s hand without a second thought—well, she’s not _jealous_ (that’d be petty of her), but she does feel a little left out.

It’s natural, though, since Elfnein and Tsubasa have spent so much time together in the last couple of weeks. Besides, this is a _good_ development; she’d been worried that Tsubasa would retreat into herself for fear of somehow messing up. Right now, though, Tsubasa looks happy and at ease, talking to Elfnein about the finer details of managing a flower farm and shop.

She remembers, just a few weeks ago, how much Tsubasa had paced in her study and all over the house; she’d even thought, for a brief fanciful moment, that Tsubasa would wear a hole through the ground.

Not that Tsubasa verbalized her fears much: everything she knows about Tsubasa had come about through pulling teeth with old, worn photographs hidden away in elegant boxes. Even well into their relationship, Tsubasa can’t bear to part with her secrets—with her “shame,” as Tsubasa would say.

It’s this particular trait of Tsubasa that she wants to prevent in Elfnein; this is why she encourages them to spend as much time together as possible, so that they might learn from each other.

But how to go about it without alienating Elfnein or pushing her too far? Pain is necessary, in this case, but it’s a fine line she’s hesitant to walk.

How had Mom done it with Kirika and Shirabe?

Kirika had been easy enough—it was plain to see that Kirika had been living as a street urchin before being nabbed by the institution, and Kirika had readily admitted that all she could remember before the institution was her life on the streets. Shirabe, on the other hand, had held her pain close to her chest; similar, in fact, to Tsubasa, but with greater adamancy and silent ferocity and _pride_.

Somehow, though, Mom had gotten Shirabe to open up. She wished she knew _how_.

“It is quite rare to see you so quiet and contemplative,” Tsubasa murmurs, squeezing her knee in askance while Elfnein rifles through her book.

Leaning further against Tsubasa, she answers, “Well, I was thinking of a serious matter. But it’s fine, I’ll find a solution soon enough.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“Hm, not particularly, I’m afraid. In fact, this is more about helping _you_ ,” she says, watching Tsubasa’s expression.

Tsubasa, predictably, frowns uncomfortably.

“You know it’s necessary, Tsubasa. You can’t seesaw on this matter for the rest of your life.”

“Indeed,” Tsubasa sighs, looking resigned.

She pats Tsubasa’s hand consolingly, “Don’t worry about it too much. It’s for your own good.”

“That does not mean I have to _enjoy_ it,” Tsubasa grumbles. “Well, I am afraid I must leave you both, for I am unexpectedly behind on paperwork,” she adds in a louder voice, forestalling any retorts Maria might have thrown her way.

“Okay, Mrs. Tsubasa,” Elfnein says, barely glancing up from her book.

A bit mockingly, Maria smirks, “ _Enjoy_ your paperwork, dear,” earning a sigh of exasperation and a shake of Tsubasa’s head.

Tsubasa isn’t, after all, a delicate flower—she’s not a sheathed sword, either. Not anymore, and not as long as Maria has any say in it.

But Elfnein is insistent that the past be out of sight and out of mind; she has noticed that the watch belonging to Elfnein’s father remains tucked away in a drawer, beneath socks and old shirts that remain perpetually messy (on purpose, no doubt).

She wants, more than anything, to put Elfnein and Tsubasa at ease.

“M-Mrs. Maria?”

“Eh?” She blinks as Elfnein shuffles closer.

“C-can we g-go e-exploring, M-Mrs. Maria?”

“Of course, dear,” she says, grinning at Elfnein. “Let’s have some fun while Tsubasa is stuck with her boring paperwork!”

Elfnein giggles.

Yes. It’s of the utmost importance that she help Elfnein adjust to the weight of grief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably won't update tomorrow. I want to make some progress on another project so that I can post it before the end of femslash February.


	44. 2.44 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria and Elfnein have the very beginning of a serious conversation in a tiny little room.

### FORTY-FOUR

“So this is where they all went,” she notes, running her fingers across golden-edged labels in Tsubasa’s exact calligraphy. Despite being hidden away in a remote room of the estate, these albums are in impeccable condition.

“What are they?” Elfnein peers into one of the lower boxes. “Photo albums?”

She nods, “Yes. Tons of pictures that Tsubasa’s managed to accumulate over the years. From what I’ve seen, they are mostly from her teenage years—she told me she had something of an obsession with photography when she was younger. But, I don’t recognize _these_.”

She pulls out a worn, black-leather volume from a collection on a higher shelf.

Fudou Kazanari smiles up at her.

She slams the book shut and stuffs it back in its place.

Luckily, Elfnein appears preoccupied with an album she got off a shelf closer to her own level.

Good. Okay. Best to stay away from the upper shelves (if she never sees Fudou Kazanari’s face ever again, it will still be too soon for her), so she asks Elfnein, “Find anything interesting?”

“Mrs. Tsubasa looks happy,” Elfnein mumbles, shifting so that Maria can see the photo of a teenage Tsubasa holding a massive bouquet of flowers—with Kanade, whose arm is slung tight around Tsubasa’s waist.

It must have been some months before Kanade’s death, because there isn’t a trace of dark circles under Tsubasa’s eyes or depression lingering around her mouth.

“Sometimes we never recover from the loss of loved ones,” she murmurs, laying a hand on Elfnein’s shoulder. “Tsubasa has had a very difficult time of it, made worse because she insists avoiding coming to terms with Kanade’s death, and many other painful memories. It’s taken its toll on her.”

Elfnein’s head sinks further into her chest.

“Don’t worry,” she hastens to reassure, “we’re not going to pressure you if you’re not ready. I know how much it hurts to lose a parent. It’s going to take time—I just want you to be aware that someday, whether it be far in the future or sooner, you will have to face it. That’s life.”

“I don’t like thinking about Papa,” Elfnein states, her tone flat and her shoulders hunching even further. “Because Papa isn’t ever coming back, and Carol left me, too. I don’t like thinking about that.”

Carol?

But now’s not the time to pry for more details—not yet.

She gently tugs the album out of Elfnein’s hands, tucks it back in with the rest, and asks, “May I hug you, Elfnein?”

Instead of answering aloud, Elfnein throws her little arms around Maria’s waist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My head hurts too much to continue. I may or may not do a second part to this, or I might just time skip. We'll see tomorrow.
> 
> Please review!


	45. 2.45 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Early mornings are the best time to think about things without falling into moroseness.

### FORTY-FIVE

While sipping at her tea and waiting for the others to wake, she ruminates over the various hints Maria has left her over the past month—over the entirety of their relationship, frankly.

She is fully aware of her tendency to avoid her emotions.

Of her tendency to avoid her memories.

And her father.

And old photographs of happier times.

For all of her adamancy in upholding her duty as a sword, she truly lacks in this respect.

She is not a coward; she simply desires to leave herself intact instead of shattered upon the unforgiving stone. So what if she has spent the better part of her life amassing the resilience necessary to finally put these demons to rest?

When Kanade died—her only friend, her companion, her _savior_ —she could not bring herself to trust in her uncle, to rely on the world which had betrayed her so. It has taken everything in her to painstakingly build this support system for herself.

First, with Hibiki Tachibana, loathe though she had been to accept Kanade’s successor. Then, Miku Kohinata, whose silent presence was a welcome reprieve from Hibiki’s exuberance. Next, Chris Yukine, because she had wanted to protect her junior from the biting scorn of the clan.

Then came Maria, with Kirika and Shirabe showing her that Maria was, indeed, a reliable person despite it all.

Back then, she had thought it best to put herself on hold for the greater good.

She has hoarded bits and pieces of their lives, amassed album upon album of photographs, and waited—yes, waited fearfully—for the day to come when she would exchange her physical armor for her mental suit.

Perhaps that day has arrived.

It is only now, in times of peace, that she will allow herself to look inwards.

Allow herself to use her support system as it is meant to be used.

But must she? Is it necessary for her to confront this _immediately_?

Well, she cannot guarantee that she has years ahead of her to do as she pleases. Moreover, why should she put this off, when doing so will only keep her from enjoying her present? And, above all, how does she expect to help Elfnein if her own progress has scarcely changed from that awful day so long ago?

Therefore—it _is_ necessary for her to resolve her thoughts once and for all. They have rattled in her mind for far too long.

They keep her from helping the one she most wants to help.

She _refuses_ to be like her father, aged forty-five with his wife dead and with a two-year-old “anomaly” on his hands and without the slightest idea of how to be a good parent.

Even more so: she is not Fudou Kazanari, who conceived her only to abandon her in his disinterest.

But most importantly, in the eyes of Elfnein, Tsubasa Kazanari will not be another Izak Malus Dienheim.

Her brow furrows further.

Izak Malus Dienheim. Another pressing thought.

Wanted for illegal substance production, for his contribution in a vast network of spies throughout the European Union, and for suspected aiding of Dr. Ver’s escape from Interpol and the JSDF. His death has put back several operations, including the Second Division’s continued quest to recapture Ver and find Finè.

He was also, however, the father of two. Who his other child is remains classified information; would Elfnein tell her, if she asked?

Possibly, possibly not.

After all, Tsubasa herself refused to speak of Kanade at all, until Hibiki and Maria drew a few stories out of her with their impressive persistence.

Even today it takes a significant amount of energy to bring herself to say Kanade’s name aloud—there only outward token she has to Kanade is the shrine she has—

Oh.

Hm.

This is an idea. Would Elfnein want to partake in this tradition? It is true that Kanade’s shrine does not see her often, for she purposefully stays away, but having a physical marker for the dead—aside from graves proper—is a balm to the heart and mind.

For example, Chris’s massive shrine to her parents is both a sign of respect to the late singers and a comfort for Chris. And had not Kanade once told her, in a bittersweet dream, that it was up to Tsubasa to determine how close Kanade was?

She can give this to Elfnein.

No matter how criminal Izak Malus Dienheim was in his private life, he had also been a beloved father to a sweet girl, who misses him still.

Has Elfnein even been granted leave to visit the grave of her father?

Good grief, she has been most remiss in this.

She must speak to Genjuurou immediately—as soon as she arrives at her shop’s office, she will have to find some way to keep Elfnein occupied in order to make a discrete call to the commander.

Yes, this is what she will give to Elfnein: closure.

And perhaps it is high time for her to visit Kanade’s shrine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Several trains of thought here, but all more-or-less related. I watched the second special for GX, and it reminded me of a few things I wanted to write and gave me some ideas, too
> 
> Also, time-wise, it's Thursday for them; they'll have two school visits on Friday (whenever the heck we get there, lol), though I'm not sure what to do for those schools since I've already declared a personal favorite for Elfnein. Thoughts on this are welcome.
> 
> Thank you to all the guests who have left kudos. I hope you all continue to enjoy! Please do feel free to leave a comment, whatever comes to mind. I love any and all responses.
> 
> Please review!


	46. 2.46 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elfnein and some thoughts.

### FORTY-SIX

Mrs. Maria looks more or less the same in photos of her younger self, but Mrs. Tsubasa isn’t ever as smiling as she was when she met Miss Amou.

She squints at the photos in her hands, as if they’ll give her the answers she wants.

Both Mrs. Tsubasa and Mrs. Maria have—have encountered death, so why does Mrs. Maria still smile so easily yet the bags under Mrs. Tsubasa’s eyes (which hadn’t seemed so important, before) never go away?

If she doesn’t push it all to the back of her mind, then what is the secret to Mrs. Maria’s resilience?

That’s what’s keeping her awake at 2:46 in the morning, poring over the photographs Mrs. Tsubasa had sent her, even though she knows she’s going to regret staying up so late when they’re visiting the last two schools tomorrow—or, later today, actually.

It’s not like she can help it, though. Sometimes, no matter how hard she tries, certain thoughts refuse to quiet down.

She supposes she _could_ go out to watch the stars and lull herself to sleep, but it’s very late and very cold and Mrs. Maria and Mrs. Tsubasa wouldn’t approve of her missing so much sleep.

She sighs, wishing she could just turn off her brain.

 _No_ , she doesn’t want to think about empty bunk beds.

 _No_ , she doesn’t want to think of their burning cabin.

 _No_ , she doesn’t want to think of big airports and unfamiliar faces.

No, no, and _no_.

She’s not going to think about any of that; she’s going to _sleep_ , and wake up, and pretend none of that ever happened.

(Except she has evidence that it did.)

Okay.

She reorders the photos back in their box, being very careful not to accidentally crumple them, and puts the box away beneath her bed.

Then she pulls the blankets tight around her.

She’s going to fall asleep any second now.

Any second…

Any second…

…

…Later, when she wakes up, her eyes fighting to stay open, she’s surprised that her thoughts didn’t keep her awake the entire night and that she actually managed to force herself to sleep.

It’s usually doesn’t work despite her insistent efforts ( _not_ that she wants to think about that, no).

But still, she feels pretty sluggish anyway as she trudges to the bathroom and then to the kitchen.

Unexpectedly, going against several weeks’ worth of data, Mrs. Tsubasa appears a lot more energetic than she ever is: breakfast is already laid out on the kitchen table and Mrs. Tsubasa greets her very cheerfully while Mrs. Maria lethargically sips at her coffee, giving Elfnein a tired wave.

It confuses her.

“Long night?” Mrs. Maria mumbles, blinking. “I’d give you some coffee, but you’re too young for that....”

Mrs. Tsubasa shakes her head, saying sympathetically, “Would you like some tea, Elfnein? I find that it helps clear the cobwebs from my mind.”

“Um… y-yes, thank you,” she says, fiddling with her fork as she watches Mrs. Tsubasa pour a teacup full of a sweet-smelling tea, the steam billowing up to briefly obscure Mrs. Tsubasa’s smile.

It’s sweet-tasting, too. And hot—she has to take little sips to avoid scalding her tongue.

“Are you looking forward to the last two visits?” Mrs. Maria asks, looking a lot more awake and sunny.

She nods, “Yeah… I really like Matsuoka, b-but it won’t hurt to look at the others….”

“We will be a bit pressed for time in between visits, I’m afraid, so I have packed us a lunch to save us a bit of hassle.”

Mrs. Tsubasa really _is_ energetic this morning…

“Make sure Tsubasa doesn’t leave your lunches in the car, okay?” Mrs. Maria adds with a roll of her eyes. “Or forget to eat altogether; sometimes she does that, when she gets too caught up in her thoughts. And tell her not to stress out about traffic.”

Mrs. Tsubasa starts blushing and hides her face behind her cup.

Grinning, Elfnein nods.

It’s too good of a day to spend it moping around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hm. I'm not quite satisfied with this chapter...


	47. 2.47 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A gift reminds Maria of the not-so-distant past.

### FORTY-SEVEN

“Commendable work, Mrs. Kazanari,” Miss Akemi is telling her when a group of giggling, flustered girls approach them.

“Students, you should not linger much longer, for the school will close for students in a few minutes,” Miss Akemi warns.

One of the girls, presumably assigned spokesperson from the nervous looks she exchanges with the others, says, “Y-yes, Miss Akemi, we’ll leave soon, but first—” she pauses, glancing back again at her friends, who nod encouragingly. “But first we want to give Mrs. Kazanari a gift!”

A gift? For her? But she doesn’t recognize them from any of her classes.

“We’re big fans of yours, M-Mrs. Kazanari!” another girl pipes up, again to enthusiastic agreement.

“Fans?” Miss Akemi echoes.

She has a feeling she knows where this is going, though she’s surprised they know of her career after all this time.

Materializing beside Miss Akemi, Miss Kaname huffs, “Don’t you know, Homura? Mrs. Kazanari is none other than the Queen of Music, Maria Cadenzavna Eve!”

The students give excited squeals at that, and she blushes.

It’s been ages since anyone called her that.

“A-and she’s married to Tsubasa Kazanari, from Zwei Wing!”

“Yes, I am,” she acknowledges, “but I have been retired for a long time. How did you know I used to be a pop idol?”

(It almost feels awkward for someone her age to say “pop idol,” somehow, which is preposterous. She’s not _old_.)

“Our parents are really, really big fans,” the spokesperson explains. “They like to say that your music and collaboration with Mrs. Tsubasa Kazanari helped keep them hopeful during the war, and they play your songs pretty often!”

Miss Kaname notes, “It might sound cliché, the power of music, but it truly is an important part of our society. It kept our morale up during dark times. Thank you, Mrs. Kazanari.”

Miss Kaname says the last part with a gravity she hasn’t seen before.

A familiar twinge of guilt reminds her that she had nearly tainted, had seriously considered tainting, something so beautiful with the very horrors her fans had sought to escape.

“No, it is I who should thank you,” she says, blinking away tears. “You kept me going during a dark time of my own.”

“But we still want to give you a present, to both you and Mrs. Kazanari, please?” They crowd around her, earnest hope and admiration; she can’t help but give in.

“Alright.”

“Yay!” They huddle together, and something passes between their hands and then their spokesperson holds it out to her, beaming, “From us and our parents.”

Gingerly, she accepts the elegant box with its silver ribbon and pink giftwrap.

She sets it on her desk, unravels the ribbon, and peels away the paper.

Inside, nestled in soft blue tissue, lies a frosted-glass figurine of herself and Tsubasa, midway through a coordinated twirl around each other, their saber-like microphones proudly standing out.

She remembers that moment as if it were yesterday: the roar of the crowd, the searing in her lungs, the delight on Tsubasa’s face, and Mom’s ruthless commands ringing in her ears.

“It’s a music box!”

“Yeah! Guess what song it plays!”

She ventures, against her tight throat, “ _Fusichou no Flamme_? Or _Seiten Galaxy Cross_?”

“Nope!” They shake their heads with unbridled anticipation. “Play it to see!”

She finds its key.

The opening notes sound.

She closes her eyes as their wedding cover of _Gyakou no Furyuugeru_ plays.

Remembers taking up the microphone after their first dance as a married couple, Tsubasa opposite of her, and adding another layer of association to the song that had for so long stood for Tsubasa and Kanade.

On their wedding day, this song had been about Kanade and Tsubasa, about Maria and Tsubasa—about Tsubasa and her life.

It had been about Tsubasa expanding her collection of associations so that she would never again be alone.

This had been her gift to Tsubasa.

She’d given Tsubasa a memory, because memories were Tsubasa’s steadfast companions; if she couldn’t give Tsubasa peace of mind, then she would give her the next best thing.

_“I know you have a tendency to forget about yourself, Maria.”_

_Gyakou no Furyuugeru_ had been for Tsubasa’s benefit only.

But she knows it had also been Tsubasa’s way of telling her that no matter the past, Tsubasa had wanted to marry _Maria Cadenzavna Eve_ , not anyone else.

They were each other’s gifts.


	48. 2.48 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elfnein is pretty tired, and her thoughts are kind of all over the place.

### FORTY-EIGHT

She’s not the slightest bit ashamed when she steps behind Mrs. Tsubasa to hide from the curious stares of the students at recess.

But she _does_ wish they’d stop it; she’s not interesting at all, so why do they keep looking at her?

“Thank you very much, Dr. Ozpin,” she hears Mrs. Tsubasa say, and she’s relieved because that means it’s time for them to leave.

If Mrs. Tsubasa asks her about this school, though, she’ll have to admit that she wasn’t paying attention—she was too busy trying to not yawn or trip over her feet to listen to Dr. Ozpin’s rambling about being the best academy for future engineers. It had sounded like too much pressure for her, when she already had enough.

Mostly, though, she’s wondering if she’ll be able to stay awake through the rest of the day, since bedtime is ages away.

Sleeps sounds pretty nice right about now.

“Tired?” Mrs. Tsubasa asks as she unlocks the car.

Nodding sheepishly, she says, “I-I think all m-my l-late n-nights caught up with m-me.”

“I can prepare chamomile tea for you before bedtime to help you sleep, if you so wish? It functions as a mild sleeping aid,” Mrs. Tsubasa suggests; Elfnein finds herself relieved that Mrs. Tsubasa didn’t scold her for staying up reading, since that’s not really the problem.

Falling asleep is the problem—sort of.

She doesn’t think drinking tea before bed will help her with what’s _really_ bothering her.

“O-okay,” she agrees instead of voicing her pessimistic thoughts. Hadn’t she said this morning that it was too good of a day to be moping? Well, she’s going to stick with it.

Mrs. Tsubasa smiles comfortingly at her but doesn’t say anything further once they get on the road.

This time, they’re not going straight back home: they’re going to pick up Mrs. Maria at Lydian.

It’s a short drive; Mrs. Tsubasa points out some buildings jutting out of the cityscape, telling her that it’s the school.

“Although it has a central location in the city, the campus itself is akin to an oasis—similar to Matsuoka, in fact.”

Nose and forehead plastered to the window, she takes in the appearance of Lydian Music Academy as they pull in. It’s an _enormous_ place that far outclasses all of the elementary schools she’d visited with Mrs. Tsubasa, and its shiny glass windows and elegant brick façade seem to go on forever.

High school students trickle away from their school in groups and pairs and by themselves; they’re so tall and confident and _cool_ that she wonders if she’ll ever be like them some day.

Itty-bitty Elfnein, a high school student. Doesn’t that have a weird ring to it?

Carol would suit the image a _lot_ better than her.

(But Carol isn’t around.)

Pulling into a parking lot, Mrs. Tsubasa notes the time, “The teachers should be leaving shortly. I am pleasantly surprised that everything went more or less smoothly.”

“Except the part where we forgot where the car was parked,” she pipes up, turning around to grin at Mrs. Tsubasa, who grimaces.

“I am still not certain how it slipped my mind.”

“I-I think y-you’re j-just absent-minded, M-Mrs. Tsubasa,” she says.

Mrs. Tsubasa sighs. “Truer words have never been spoken. Though,” Mrs. Tsubasa glances around, studying the campus around them, “I was quite the reliable upperclassman in my high school days. Perhaps it is marriage that has made me soft.

“Ah, speak of the devil,” Mrs. Tsubasa says with a fond smile and she steps out of the car.

With an exaggerated flourish, Mrs. Tsubasa opens the passenger door just when Mrs. Maria approaches close enough, declaring, “Thy carriage awaits, my lady.”

“Oh, stop it, Tsubasa,” Mrs. Maria scolds, blushing. “Don’t embarrass me in front of the other teachers and Elfnein.”

She giggles at Mrs. Tsubasa’s mock-wounded expression.

They’re so deeply in love—it’s something of an odd thing, something she hasn’t paid attention to in anyone else, because it simply hadn’t crossed her mind. But with Mrs. Maria and Mrs. Tsubasa, seeing them together and how much they care about each other, she thinks she wants this for herself:

A love that’s not hurtful.

A love freely given.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably shouldn't write when caffeine and exhaustion are pulling my brain in different directions, but I'm probably not going to update over the weekend so I wanted to get this out.
> 
> Please review! ^^


	49. 2.49 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So far, Tsubasa has not made an irreparable mistake. She is quite proud of herself.

### FORTY-NINE

“…asleep?”

Her breathing shifts.

“Mhm.” Fingers work through her hair. “All that energy she had this morning probably made her more tired than usual.” A sigh. “How typical of Tsubasa. You know, she gets tired very easily if she deviates from her usual routine; she’s a creature of habit.”

Insults—she must defend her honor…

Her eyelids are heavy.

…After she wakes up properly.

“Mrs. Tsubasa seems excited for something.”

“Doesn’t she? I think it’s supposed to be a surprise, though, since she hasn’t mentioned anything; she’s frustratingly good at keeping secrets.”

Hn.

Perhaps it would be best to consult Maria on this?

She has not, after all, the delicate touch that Maria does.

Rustling. Crackling, which she remembers dimly from lighting the fire a while ago. Faint whistling from a perpetually-opened window.

Maria shifts beneath her—light bursts in red and orange from above her, forcing her to turn her head away.

Giggling.

“Tsubasa! Stop that, you’re tickling me!”

She cracks an eye open, peering at Maria’s half-exasperated, half-laughing face.

“Hm.”

“Oh, c’mon, you sleepyhead. You should get up now anyway, or else you’ll be skulking around in the middle of the night because you can’t sleep.”

“I do not _skulk_ ,” she grumbles, though Maria has a point about her habit of wandering the halls whenever she cannot sleep.

With sleep-laden limbs, she moves her position so that she sits properly beside Maria; her eyes droop shut against her will, but Maria jostles her awake, so she is left squinting absently into the fire.

“Now that you’re awake,” Maria nudges her again, “we can continue talking about what school Elfnein wants to go to.”

Ah, yes.

How discourteous of her to delay such an important conversation by falling asleep.

“I apolo—”

Maria shushes her, “It’s okay, Tsubasa. Don’t worry about it.” Warm blue eyes reiterate Maria’s reassurance.

She glances to Elfnein, who smiles tentatively and says, “Mrs. Maria and I were talking about what to do over winter break before y-you woke up.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm,” Maria nods with a slight smirk. “We can’t stay holed up here all the time, as much as I know you’d want to, Tsubasa.”

Rolling her eyes, she steers their conversation to what they had _meant_ to be discussing in the first place, “On the subject of schools for Elfnein, I believe there is one school in particular that we favored…?”

Elfnein nods, her hands fidgeting with her sleeve a bit. “M-Matsuoka,” she mumbles. “I-I l-liked it a l-lot.”

“Matsuoka,” Maria repeats.

“We have the pamphlet here somewhere…,” she rummages around the scattered papers on the coffee table—data sheets, receipts, scrawled telephone numbers, but no pamphlet in sight. She sighs, “Ah, well, it is quite the pleasant school. It lives up to its name.”

“H-here it is!” Elfnein pulls out the pamphlet from beneath even more papers (how many did she bring back from the office?) and hands it to Maria.

Maria frowns at the pamphlet in her hands.

“Maria?” Does she disapprove of their choice? “I believe it is a suitable school… their curriculum is sound, and—”

“Oh, yes, sorry,” Maria shakes her head, “I was just thinking that I’ve heard of Matsuoka before… though I can’t put my finger on it. Anyway! Elfnein, you said you like this school?”

Elfnein nods, looking hopeful; she finds herself hopeful, as well, that Maria will agree.

“It looks and sounds like a good school,” Maria muses as she peruses through the finer details. “And I’m sure it is, if both Tsubasa and Elfnein agree. In that case, then, I don’t see why not. It’s not that far from Lydian, so I could pick you up, and then Tsubasa could wait for us at the village station—that works out perfectly!”

Her shoulders relax and she exchanges a smile with Elfnein.

Maria continues, excitement animating her hands, “Then, we’ll have to call their office to make an appointment to enroll Elfnein, and probably to get the particulars out of the way, too. I’ll call in to work, too, so that I can go with you this time.”

Elfnein straightens, beaming and undoubtedly looking forward to the day as much as Maria, if not more so.

And she relaxes even further, reclining against the couch and closing her eyes, for it is a responsibility off her shoulders now. She has done her part; she can allow herself the respite.

She might have trouble sleeping later, because she is remarkably… _giddy_. Such a string of successes, the likes of which she had not thought possible—ah, well, she should not get ahead of herself on that score.

First, she will consult Maria.

Then—who is to say? But she has high hopes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting to a certain breakthrough, so to speak, in the story. I can hardly contain my own eagerness, lol.
> 
> Please review!


	50. 2.50 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsubasa makes progress and Maria remembers.

### FIFTY

She half-heartedly grumbles, “You know, we’re never going to set a good example about regular sleeping schedules to Elfnein if we—if _you_ keep staying up late like this.” She lets her body rest on Tsubasa, who wheezes. “I’m _not_ heavy,” she adds with a poke to Tsubasa’s side and a yawn.

“Ah, well I believe we may be too late on that front; we seem to have a night owl on our hands,” Tsubasa replies sardonically.

Just as she’d feared. She’s going to have to see if any of the parenting books they bought have some advice for that…

Mm, Tsubasa is so warm… like lilies…

“Please do not fall asleep, Maria.”

“…Humph. I knew I shouldn’t have let you take that nap earlier,” she sighs. “Well, what’s on your mind?”

Tsubasa’s entire body tenses, in that particular habit Tsubasa has whenever she confronts something with extreme reluctance.

She frowns, all thoughts of sleep chased away; this is at odds with Tsubasa’s earlier eagerness. What could possibly have Tsubasa both frightened _and_ excited?

Leaving a kiss on Tsubasa’s shoulder, she waits until Tsubasa’s body relaxes once again to gently, softly prompt, “Tsubasa?”

Tsubasa sighs, almost too quietly for Maria to hear.

As far as she knows, there’s only one reason why Tsubasa would be like this.

“When Kanade died, I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

It’s just like Tsubasa to jump right in once she gets past her hesitation.

“Perhaps it is a longing that will never leave me. Perhaps a part of me will forever be waiting to reunite with Kanade. Perhaps it is too late for me.”

_Why am I not enough?_ the little girl she used to be asks—the little girl who had wished she could be enough to take away her sister’s burden.

But she knows better.

“Father helped me build Kanade’s shrine. I could barely get out of bed, let alone walk streets I had once walked with Kanade, yet, before I knew it, we were back at the estate. He took me to the Mourning Room, a place I had been to only on the anniversary of my mother’s death—a place that rendered everything absolute.”

She can imagine baby-faced Tsubasa, an empty estate, footsteps barely a whisper and much too loud, a gaping hole by her side where Kanade used to be.

Can she imagine Yatsuhiro Kazanari?

“I cried. I could barely see anything through my tears—somehow, it was worse than the ceremony Uncle had conducted to honor Kanade’s service. Farther had to guide my hands. The urn of Kanade’s ashes was a lead weight on my heart.”

Not even a hitch disrupts Tsubasa’s even-toned pronouncement; this is the pinnacle of Tsubasa’s ability to imprison her emotions. This is how deep the wound runs.

“A portrait, the ashes, incense, candles, flowers, and the Buddha—a shrine, placed directly beside my mother.

“That was the first time I truly understood Father.”

Tsubasa breathes shallowly, barely any movement beneath Maria, and the house groans around them.

“You don’t visit her often, do you?” she asks even though she already knows the answer.

“No. Would _you_ , if you could?”

“Of course,” her hand comes up to grip at Tsubasa’s pajama shirt. “I would probably visit _too_ much if it weren’t for the fact that my family relies on me.”

Quiet breathing echoing in the dark, she mulls over what she just said.

She’s had time to accept her mother’s fate and absence, but it might have been easier on her if she had been able to put Mom’s body to rest; that has been her only lasting regret. She finds herself angry, sometimes, that God did not give her the opportunity to give proper funeral rites to neither Serena nor Nastassja.

The wake, the procession, the sermon, the burial—in their absence, she knows how important they are for mourning, and it’s a knife to her heart that she couldn’t give them—give _herself_ —this.

“I doubt Elfnein has had an opportunity to observe funeral rites,” Tsubasa finally continues. “Do you think…?”

She rolls over, pulling Tsubasa with her.

“Huh?”

Faintly, she can just about see the startled confusion on Tsubasa’s face; with her hands on Tsubasa’s cheeks, squishing a little bit, she presses their foreheads together, and Tsubasa shifts so that her weight rests on her elbows.

“You can’t just talk about something like that and then just brush it off like it’s nothing!” she whisper-shouts.

“B-but… i-it’s n-not a-about m-me…”

“Oh, _Tsubasa_.”

‘One step forward, two steps back’ fits very well in this situation.

“I’m proud of you, Tsubasa,” she whispers, tracing Tsubasa’s tense expression. “I’m so proud of you—that you’ve acknowledged Kanade’s death— _it’s important_ , don’t you see?”

“I—I s-suppose so…,” Tsubasa tries to turn away, but Maria keeps her hold firm.

“Don’t run away from me now, Tsubasa.”

Tsubasa closes her eyes, admitting, “I had hoped to do this in a detached manner… for this is not the focus, this is not the _point_ ….”

“But it _is_ , Tsubasa,” she insists, “I know how it eats you up inside, just when you think you’ve finally reached a good point. You—you’ve never let yourself pause long enough to _accept it_. You’ve never thought of _yourself_ long enough, and now you _can_ , because now you know you have the strength to keep going.”

Tsubasa sighs, “Let me go, please?” There’s a note of resignation in her tone.

Only because she’s certain that Tsubasa won’t run away does Maria let go, though she’s half-expecting that she’s going to have to physically pin Tsubasa to the bed to keep her from escaping.

“It—is true,” Tsubasa mumbles, taking Maria’s hand in her own, “what you say is true, but I believe—I am not sure if I have it in me to continue....”

“But you _do_ , Tsubasa. You just proved it.”

“Did I? It appears to me that I need another _decade_ to recuperate from this alone,” Tsubasa counters with a trace of bitterness.

Now it’s one step forward, _three_ steps back.

But she understands.

She really does: after all, didn’t she spend her two months of isolation wallowing in anguish? At the time, she hadn’t thought she would ever be able to stand strong—not without Serena _and_ without Mom.

It’s also why she _knows_ that Tsubasa can conquer this; if _Maria_ could, then Tsubasa definitely can.

“Do _you_ really believe that?”

Tsubasa takes a few moments to answer, “No. But sometimes, I do.”

Perfectly normal, and _expected_ , even.

It’s not like Tsubasa’s going to turn a new leaf overnight. Tsubasa has always taken her time where it matters most; the only difference now is that she needs a little push to make it through the last stretch.

“You’ve made it this far, Tsubasa,” she murmurs, tightening her grip on Tsubasa’s hand. “You’re not going to fail.”

Tsubasa sighs—a heavy release of tension.

“Please, won’t you be proud of yourself? The little steps are just as important as the big strides, and just look at how much progress you’ve made.”

“I know.” There’s an undercurrent of happiness in Tsubasa’s soft voice.

So she says, “It’s going to be just as delicate with Elfnein. Are you sure she’s ready for this?”

“Elfnein is a far stronger person than I am.”

Confidence, and pride.

And she remembers putting herself back together after her mother’s death.

Maria Cadenzavna Eve, who survived her sister and her mother, who hadn’t been anywhere _near_ enough when she was a little girl—well, she’d been enough for _herself_.

“I agree,” she says.


	51. 2.51 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Settling in at last.

### FIFTY-ONE

Hm?

Dáinsleif isn’t in her arms…

…It’s also cold, her nose tells her.

Eyes still closed, she roots around for Dáinsleif—doesn’t find him, so she pokes out her arm to nab him from the floor.

Brr. Dáinsleif is cold.

So sorry, Dáinsleif.

Curling the blanket more tightly around herself, and curling herself around Dáinsleif, she lets her breathing slow down again…

…

…Is it morning?...

…Hm. She’s a little bit hungry…

…Are Mrs. Maria and Mrs. Tsubasa awake yet?...

…It looks like she’s not going to sleep much longer; she might as well get up. If no else is awake, then maybe she can get through the last few chapters of _The Penultimate Peril_ and get started on _The End_.

Now _that_ is an exciting thought.

When she reaches the kitchen, though she finds Mrs. Maria reading the newspaper and sipping what she assumes is coffee.

“Good morning,” Mrs. Maria beams at her, “I didn’t expect you to wake up so soon.”

Definitely coffee, she muses, from the smell of it and the half-full coffee pot on the table—which isn’t for Mrs. Maria, since Mrs. Maria is only allowed to have one cup of coffee a day. Will Mrs. Tsubasa drink it, then?

She replies, carefully pouring herself a glass of cranberry juice, “Dáinsleif was on the floor.”

“Again? But just a while ago I put him back on your bed.”

She blinks—it shouldn’t be that surprising, since Mrs. Tsubasa checks on her every night, but it’s… out of the ordinary for her, this whole “two parents” thing. she hasn’t really thought much about it.

“Do you want to help me make breakfast while we wait for Tsubasa?”

Mrs. Maria sets aside her coffee and newspaper and goes to the cupboards.

Watching Mrs. Maria pull some kitchenware out, she sips at her juice; the cranberry’s sharp taste makes her shudder, but it’s just the push she needs to say, “O-okay,” and join Mrs. Maria at the counter.

Eggs, a fresh block of cheddar cheese, a bundle of parsley, sliced ham, and spinach join the cutting board and bowls on the kitchen counter.

“Do you want pancakes?” Mrs. Maria asks as she cracks eggs.

“Yes, please.”

“Then, could you get the pancake mix, butter, and a large mixing bowl?”

While Elfnein gets the stuff for the pancakes, Mrs. Maria dices up the ham, parsley, and spinach—the eggs are already whisked by the time Elfnein’s done.

It makes her pause.

Papa had been terrible at cooking, and Carol hadn’t liked to be watched while she was working, and she’d never been in the kitchens at the orphanage, so she can’t help it if she stares every time Mrs. Tsubasa and Mrs. Maria cook—it’s fascinating.

“Could you grate the cheese, please? Just a nice pile, and be careful with your fingers,” Mrs. Maria adds, moving on to get the pancake batter together.

Grater in one hand and cheese in the other, she stands on the stool to reach the top of the counter (she can’t wait until she grows tall enough to not need it). Carefully, slowly, she shaves a little bit of cheese off the top.

The curls fall onto the plate, sticking to each other. She peeks at Mrs. Maria when she hears sizzling—Mrs. Maria pours batter into the pan directly from the mixing bowl.

Mrs. Tsubasa does it differently: measuring cups, teaspoons and tablespoons, half-mumbled instructions that Mrs. Tsubasa repeats over and over again.

“Pancakes are pretty easy to make,” Mrs. Maria remarks, catching her gaze.

By now there’s a sizeable heap of grated cheese, which she thinks is enough, so she asks, “W-what n-next?”

Flipping the pancakes and patting them with the spatula, Mrs. Maria says, “Now I’ll teach you how to make an omelet!”

“E-eh?”

Mrs. Maria grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, posting something about breakfast when it's almost bedtime for me... what a disparity. Also, why do I keep writing about sleep? Because I'm tired, that's why; I can't wait for spring break.
> 
> Please review!


	52. 2.52 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Although the clan is not _entirely_ compromised of selfishness and discord, she knows the general consensus among them is that of distaste towards her person.
> 
> Perhaps they will redeem themselves yet.

### FIFTY-TWO

Cold, crisp air fills her lungs and bites at her cheeks; tugging her scarf higher, she idly wishes that spring and summer would return.

A plume of vapor marks a deep sigh of resignation.

Her plants huddle together to ward off the oncoming cold snap, for they, too, dislike winter’s icy grip. They tremble even under the day’s noon sunlight.

Winter has truly arrived.

But a breeze rustles through the flowers, and red tulips tell her that no, the arrival of winter is not an event to be disdained. Winter is their friend, they say.

She pauses.

The flowers’ vivid colors amongst the forest greens and neutral palate of the season and the clear chirping of those birds that have stayed tell her that winter is not without life.

Winter is not _barren_.

Look, the flowers whisper, urging her gaze further up, to Maria and Elfnein.

Maria kneels a few feet ahead, delighting over burgeoning buds—Maria, who always finds kindred spirits in the underestimated, in the overlooked.

Elfnein runs even further ahead, arms spread wide and laughter echoing off the land—Elfnein, who so readily accepts the soul and life of the land and the estate as her own.

Perhaps it is a metaphor.

She gazes out to her field of swaying tulips, bright red and in harmony with the sun’s cold rays and the chilly winter breeze.

Perhaps it is a metaphor. Perhaps she has spent too many hours in front of the fire with old books of poetry.

“Daydreaming? Or are you talking with the plants again?”

“If I am?” she rejoins, taking Maria’s mittened hand into her own. “The tulips are quite wise, you know. I value their counsel.”

“I’m sure they are.” Maria rolls her eyes—a touch of disbelief, but there is curiosity in Maria’s glance to the tulips.

“C’mon,” Maria tugs at their joined hands, “Elfnein is wandering farther away; she’ll leave us behind if we don’t hurry up, so I’m afraid tulip visiting hours are over.”

In a not-so-quiet aside, she reassures the flowers, “Maria meant no offense,” to which Maria huffs.

They catch up to Elfnein a few minutes later, where the tulips give way to pansies. Elfnein is crouched on the path, tracing over one pansy’s petals and saying animatedly, “—thinking of starting my own stamp collection, but maybe I should start over with a bug collection? There are _lots_ of bugs here—oh, h-hi, Mrs. Maria and Mrs. Tsubasa.” Elfnein pats the flower she had been speaking to.

“ _Another_ flower-whisperer in the family,” Maria sighs, though her lips quirk up and she swings their hands cheerfully.

“Flowers have _feelings_ , a-and they’re good listeners,” Elfnein protests as she stands up. Her cheeks are pink and her hands are red when Elfnein tugs her mittens back on.

She intervenes, “It is a Kazanari custom to have a connection with nature. I am glad that Elfnein has taken so well to those under our care.” She is, however, a touch concerned at the point Elfnein’s words bring up.

Nature might be a good companion, but when all is said and done, it is not _human_. Nature is not a flesh-and-blood, hopes-and-fears _companion_.

And with a lack of _friends_ in early childhood undoubtedly comes a malaise in forming such bonds later on in life—she would know.

There is much she wishes to discuss with Elfnein that it is almost… _frustrating_.

Who would have thought that she would come to know impatience once again?

“ _Hello_ , Earth to Tsubasa.”

Blinking, she finds herself staring into Maria’s concerned eyes; she takes a step back and finds Elfnein also looking on worriedly.

“Pardon, I was lost in thought,” she explains, though it does little to reassure them. Well, considering certain recent incidents, she cannot fault them for taking a few more moments to assuage their concerns.

“They must be very interesting thoughts,” Maria notes with an arched eyebrow.

She chuckles and replies, “I was marveling at my own impatience—I have rarely been so averse to waiting, for patience is one of my virtues, if I do say so myself.”

“W-what are y-you impatient about, Mrs. Tsubasa?” Elfnein asks with that boundless curiosity that will surely put Tsubasa in a tight corner one of these days.

For now, however, it gives her a decent opportunity to address at least _one_ of her concerns. Out here, without walls to constrict them, but with Maria’s constant presence to protect them, she senses that the time is appropriate—though perhaps it is better to say that her resolve is at its highest here.

“I was thinking,” she begins, slowing their pace to a stroll and briefly touching Elfnein’s shoulder, “that I should tell you about _my_ side of the family.”

Maria glances at her sharply, but Elfnein says, “Oh. L-like Miss Chris, you mean?”

“No… not quite like that.”

Indeed, nothing _at all_ like Chris Yukine—not even her uncle, who has been _the commander_ in her mind far longer than he was _Uncle Genjuurou_.

Weaving their arms together in classic escort style, somehow managing to pull Tsubasa even closer, Maria elaborates for her, “Tsubasa’s relationship with the rest of her family isn’t as… friendly; they don’t really see eye-to-eye on a lot of things.”

“It is partially why you have not met any of the Kazanari,” she admits, “I would rather leave them waiting than subject you to their petty games. However, as my—as your guardian, that is, I am expected to present you to them after the requisite warming period has passed.”

She pauses, watching Elfnein’s expression for any reaction.

Elfnein notices, and nods slowly, saying, “O-okay….”

“Ah, well, it is expected that I do so because I am the family head and they are still quite adamantly invested in their feudal, hierarchical traditions.”

Maria squeezes her arm; it is a sore point for them, after all.

“Due to various decisions I have made during my tenure—my marriage to Maria, first and foremost—I have garnered… something of an unflattering reputation. By association, I regret to say that they are unlikely to welcome you with open arms.”

Once again, she pauses, but this is to take a deep breath: it hurts her more that they would dismiss Elfnein, who is a person in her own right, simply because Tsubasa is her guardian.

 _Genjuurou_ had not faced such blatant disapproval when he had announced his guardianship of Chris.

Then again, her uncle had not been in their line of interest.

“T-that’s u-unfair of t-them,” Elfnein mumbles, biting her lip and glancing away.

“It is,” she whispers.

“But that doesn’t mean that they’re right,” Maria cuts in. “Their line of thinking is completely backwards and unfounded. You and Tsubasa shouldn’t take their scorn to heart.”

Gently taking Elfnein’s hand into her own free one, Tsubasa reaffirms, “It is as Maria says. The clan refuses to look beyond their interests; it is no fault of our own. And if they will not stand our company, it is no loss for us, for we have Maria and all our friends as our _chosen_ family.”

Elfnein finally smiles—the melancholy and dejection leave. She wills them to never, ever return.

Unfortunately, she has more to say.

So she stays silent for a few moments, letting herself savor the solid presence of Maria on one side and the earnest contentment of Elfnein on her other side.

Yes: she does not need the clan’s approval.

But there are some who have been more receptive to her changes than others; it is not yet time to renounce them.

“First,” she breaks the silence—mildly and softly, to indicate the shift in their conversation—“I will introduce you to my father and uncle, who are the closest of my family. They have been most eager to make your acquaintance, if you will permit them.”

“Okay,” Elfnein readily accepts in that concise manner of hers.

She supposes there is not much to say to the proposal, after all.

“I am glad. Father and Uncle have been constants in my life for as long as I have been alive—I must say that I believe I inherited my penchant for awkwardness from them,” she jokes (as best as she can, hoping it does not fall flat).

To her relief, Elfnein and Maria both laugh.

And on the fringes of their laughter, her flowers sway in winter’s loving breeze, echoing their joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the late update; my life and my head aren't in good places right now, so I'm afraid chapters will continue to be sporadic over this week and the next.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has left kudos! I appreciate it a lot, and I'd appreciate it even more if you'd leave a comment -nudge, nudge.-
> 
> Please review ^^


	53. 2.53 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's _only_ the first Christmas they'll have together as a family. No big deal.

### FIFTY-THREE

“It looks like it’ll be rain again,” she sighs, glancing at the cloudy sky. “No snow….”

“D-do y-you want it to s-now, M-Mrs. Maria?” Elfnein asks, swinging their hands—which she’s sure is completely subconscious, but it makes her smile nonetheless.

“Mhm,” she replies, and admits with a touch of nostalgia, “I’m actually fond of the idea of a ‘white Christmas,’ you see. There’s something… well, I’ve retained a sense of childhood awe about it. It snowed a lot on the very first Christmas I celebrated.”

Well, her awe hadn’t exactly been because of the holiday _atmosphere_.

It had been a Christmas Eve spent with snow gathering on Mom’s umbrella instead of their bare heads as they waited amongst the congregation for the midnight Mass. She had clutched at Serena’s hand and found warm wool instead of chafed, frozen skin.

And Christmas morning had found their limbs moving with ease, warm even after an entire night’s worth of snowfall. _That_ is the sense of awe she retains long after leaving Warsaw.

“Papa only liked the presents part of Christmas,” Elfnein says, her hand coming to a stop and her head turning away, towards the shops. “Papa didn’t believe in religion.”

“We don’t have to exchange gifts or celebrate if you don’t want to. Neither Tsubasa or I would mind,” she murmurs in return, also looking at the bright Christmas lights decorating the candle shop. She knows how overwhelming it can be, having to adjust to new people and new habits.

Elfnein turns, frowning at her and asking, “B-but… y-you s-said…?”

She shakes her head, mustering up a faint smile.

When she thinks of Christmas, inevitably she has this progression of thoughts: first, the relief and wonder at having a roof over their heads and heat seeping into their bones. Second, the light and sound spilling out of the local church, whose doors had been barred to them before that point.

And lastly, the meager gifts—laughable, honestly, in hindsight—that they had given each other and given Mom.

She inhales deeply, her nose reddening from the chilly air.

“It’s...”

The priest had droned on in Latin that she couldn’t understand, but an old man next to them whispered translations the entire time; it’s his hoarse voice and the flickering candles that she remembers best of that Mass, instead of the words themselves.

(She has to push away the bitter thought that words had never held any importance to her, because now’s not the time for it.)

“The rituals are there to give _structure_ —to guide you along the way,” she says. Gesturing to the town’s Christmas tree that they can see jutting over houses up ahead, she elaborates, “It’s not that I’m really attached to what Tsubasa and I usually do for Christmas, or to what Christmas used to be like when I was younger.

“What matters to me is that the holiday is a day set aside for the exclusive purpose of being with family.”

Elfnein looks pensive at that, but she seems not to want to discuss it further, so Maria lets the matter drop without anything more said.

She guides them down a side street, to the bakery from where Tsubasa likes to order all their holiday pastries.

Today’s not really the day for seriousness, after all, and some sugar will do wonders for cheering them both up.

Just before they reach their destination, however, Elfnein declares, “M-Mrs. Maria… I-I w-want to c-celebrate C-Christmas w-with y-you a-a-and M-Mrs. Tsubasa!”

Call her sentimental, but Elfnein’s earnest wish makes her tear up almost immediately and she has to restrain herself from hugging the life out of Elfnein.

“I’m so glad,” she says instead, briefly squeezing Elfnein’s hand. “But are you sure, Elfnein? We really don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Elfnein gazes up at her with a serious gaze, her chubby face almost comically adamant as she affirms, “Yes.”

And then she really starts crying, which startles Elfnein.

Oops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am laughing at myself because I'm writing about winter an entire season late. Oh well.
> 
> Question: do guests receive notification of replies?
> 
> Please review! If you've any suggestions as to how they should spend Christmas or anything you'd like to see (I'm planning on having ShiraKiri + Chris visit soon), don't hesitate to ask.


	54. 2.54 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which she tries to pretend her world's foundation is not completely shaken while Miss Suyuf and Mrs. Tsubasa talk about whatever it is that they're talking about.

### FIFTY-FOUR

“Ah.” Mrs. Tsubasa stops in her tracks. “I left something at the shop—I will meet you at the car.”

Mrs. Maria chuckles, turning to watch Mrs. Tsubasa hastily going back to the shop, and says, “C’mon, then. We don’t want to catch colds waiting out here.”

“O-okay,” she agrees, glancing back one more time to see Mrs. Tsubasa fumbling with her keys at the shop’s entrance. She knows that feeling; she hopes Mrs. Tsubasa doesn’t get worked up about it (though it’s a bit… odd, worrying about an adult).

They’re nearly to the car when a slow voice states, “Lady… Kaza…nari.”

Wide, pale eyes don’t move a millimeter from Mrs. Maria’s gaze, and a spindly hand makes its gradual rise—Mrs. Maria offers her own hand, meeting a bony grip halfway.

“Mr. Einzbern, what a lovely surprise,” Mrs. Maria greets with a smile and genuine affection.

The man brings Mrs. Maria’s hand to his thin lips with an even slower motion than before; she’s not really prone to impatience, but this man is a veritable sloth!

Letting go, he replies, “Is… it… not? We… last met… four… and… fifty—”

“Father, what takes you so long?” someone else interrupts.

A girl, maybe her age, appears behind Mr. Einzbern, regarding them with hooded eyes.

“Oh. Hullo, Lady Kazanari,” the girl says without an ounce of inflection. “I apologize if my father has kept you waiting.” The girl glances at her—brief, belying that dull green gaze and blank face and monotone voice and making her take half a step back.

“Not at all, Phara,” Mrs. Maria shakes her head. “In fact, I was just about to introduce….”

There’s an awkward pause when Mrs. Maria trails off.

(There’s an anxious fluttering in her chest.)

“It’s all the better that you’re here, Phara,” Mrs. Maria continues with a quick apologetic smile towards Elfnein, “since you are about Elfnein’s age, I think.”

Pale eyes and green eyes blink in tandem, settling on her; she resists the compulsion to take another step back. In fact, she doesn’t dare move at all. Her jaw is clenched shut and her hands hang uselessly by her side and she wants this to be _over_ with already.

“Mr. Einzbern, Phara, this is Elfnein Malus Dienheim. Elfnein, this is Mr. Einzbern and his daughter Phara Suyuf.” Mrs. Maria’s hand, feather-light, steadies her. “We are neighbors—of a sort.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Miss Suyuf intones, neither her expression nor her tone changing, and her hand—though it moves faster than Mr. Einzbern’s and grips with strength—somehow feels empty.

Luckily, by the time Miss Suyuf lets go, Mr. Einzbern is close enough that she can bridge the distance without looking hasty.

Mr. Einzbern’s skin feels papery, like the parchment that Papa liked to use.

“Well… met… Miss… Malus… Dien…heim.”

Guilt for her long name flares in her stomach, which is ridiculous, because it’s not like she did it on purpose or anything.

Belatedly, she responds, “L-likewise, M-Mr. Einzbern… M-Miss Suyuf,” and they blink simultaneously at her again.

“Ah, Mr. Einzbern and Miss Phara. Greetings.”

Wonder of wonders—she might just believe in divine grace now—Mrs. Tsubasa appears, a sheaf of papers in her hand and a polite smile to their company.

(It’s an even bigger relief when Mrs. Tsubasa stands on her other side, opposite Mrs. Maria.)

“Greetings… Lord… Kaza…nari,” Mr. Einzbern states with a sluggish bow, which Miss Suyuf echoes.

“How do you fare, Mr. Einzbern?” Mrs. Tsubasa _enquires_ in a tone that takes her back to the moments when she would hear _Malus Dienheim,_ _der geehrte Professor_ speaking in huge lecture halls instead of _Papa_ talking by the fireplace on cold nights.

Mrs. Maria’s hand gives her shoulder a fleeting squeeze. Maybe she commiserates.

“Father is well,” Miss Suyuf answers and Mr. Einzbern commences a nod.

“It gladdens me. What of you, Miss Phara?”

“I, too, am well.” Miss Suyuf bows again. “We hope all goes favorably with the Kazanari.”

Why can’t they just—just exchange these _pleasantries_ more quickly? She’s going to turn into a statue (or her heart’s going to implode).

“We are,” Mrs. Tsubasa affirms. “You have met my daughter Elfnein, I presume?”

Her breath abandons her lungs: there’s not a trace of hesitance in that statement. Is that—is that _pride_ she hears?

Mrs. Tsubasa is _proud_ of _her_.

“Lady Kazanari has introduced us, yes,” and then she just stops listening because she has to dedicate every joule of energy she has to keep herself from—from?

From sobbing, probably. Sobbing in joy ( _joy_ ) and in… in grief, too.

She needs to seclude herself in her room for the next year, or maybe the next _decade_ , to recover from this completely-out-of-the-blue development, because hadn’t it been just this morning that she’d _gathered_ the _courage_ to tell Mrs. Maria she wants to celebrate Christmas?

And now _this_?

No preparation, no warning, none of the proper procedures (what procedures?) to build up to this _public_ acknowledgement that she’s _someone_ _else’s_ daughter now.

But… not just _any_ someone.

It’s Mrs. Tsubasa and Mrs. Maria.

And maybe—

“Malus Dienheim, you said?” Miss Suyuf abruptly asks, jarring her back into the present, where Miss Suyuf’s almost-bored expression is focused solely on her.

Hadn’t they been—the pleasantries—what—

“Yes,” Mrs. Maria answers for her (maybe she knows that Elfnein’s mouth is locked tight and her words are scattered all around her brain).

“Father is German,” is all Miss Suyuf says, and before Mr. Einzbern can finish agreeing, she continues, “but I am afraid we must be going, if you will excuse us, Lord Kazanari, Lady Kazanari, Miss Malus Dienheim.”

“Of course. Farewell, until we next meet.”

They exchange bows (wow, she _can_ move) and they’re finally, _finally_ alone again and the first thing that happens is:

“I—I a-apologize—I did not mean to overstep—”

At least she’s not the only one left reeling, she thinks, a bit wry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This... took an unexpected turn. Let me know if it worked out...? 
> 
> And I am soooo sorry if I butchered the German. It's supposed to be "Malus Dienheim, the esteemed professor."


	55. 2.55 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Live, and know more of the world."

### FIFTY-FIVE

“I promise,” Papa had said, one of his hands heavy on her shoulder and the other on Carol’s, “we’ll stay here for a while.”

“Define ‘a while,’” Carol had demanded.

“Ach, you’ve got me there! Well… ‘a while’ as in, as long as Papa can manage.”

Even she had known that it wasn’t much of a promise; it was a _platitude_ to keep them quiet for a while. Already, she was wondering how long Papa would tolerate being here—a month, maybe two.

Papa had ruffled her hair, asking, “What d’you think, Elfnein? Does this look like home, sweet home?”

“I guess,” she had mumbled, also not promising anything.

And “a while” had come to an abrupt end, but at least Papa had kept his not-promise.

What is the word? It starts with a _C_ … constant, no—confirm—commend—

“Commitment.”

“P-pardon?”

 _Guilty_ is scrawled all over Mrs. Tsubasa’s hunched shoulders and clenched hands and downward gaze.

She’d said that out loud, and she’s not sure where her train of thought had been going in the first place. She hadn’t meant to break the silence—just as Mrs. Tsubasa hadn’t meant to break their tentative equilibrium, because they had been waiting on _her_ , and she hadn’t wanted to change anything.

But if nothing gives, then what’s the point? No experiment would be a success if scientists were afraid of change.

And even _Papa_ had been capable of change.

“We’re home,” Mrs. Maria murmurs; the steady hum of the car gives way to utter silence, a blank slate. They all trudge out of the car, and still she doesn’t know what she wants to say.

She’s not afraid to admit that _here_ is home. If she’s being honest (if she tries), it’s almost ridiculously easy for her to exchange those rented rooms at local inns and the orphanage for the Kazanari estate. This one is easy.

Mrs. Tsubasa sighs, a deep, heavy sigh.

The rest _isn’t_ so easy.

But, it’s not supposed to be easy, is it? Not for the Baudelaires, and not for her, either. That’s just how it is.

She _can_ be brave.

“I am not sorry I claimed you as my daughter,” Mrs. Tsubasa declares, stopping in the doorway. “I am only sorry that it happened under such circumstances. Please, forgive this artless person her folly.” And Mrs. Tsubasa bows, nearly folding herself in half.

“Oh, Tsubasa,” Mrs. Maria sighs—a common sound when Mrs. Tsubasa’s involved. “Come inside before it starts raining.”

Mrs. Maria leads them to the living room, where she starts a fire in the fireplace and double-checks that the shutters are closed.

Mrs. Tsubasa looks lost, trailing in behind them, so she decides to prove she _is_ brave: she takes Mrs. Tsubasa’s hand into her own, leads her to the couch, and snuggles up to her, giggling when Mrs. Tsubasa stiffens.

If she doesn’t know what to say, then at least she has an idea of what to _do_.

From the first time she’d realized that Papa couldn’t keep promises very well—ages and ages ago, so long ago that she doesn’t even remember when exactly it had happened—Elfnein has known that adults aren’t infallible. She’d come to expect it, even, just like the Baudelaires had come to expect Mr. Poe to fail them.

It happens, sometimes.

So it’s not that that bothers her. It’s the fact that she wasn’t ready to accept reality that bothers her.

Will she ever be ready?

No, she won’t.

That’s just not how it works.

Change, bravery, and acceptance—well, it all boils down to one question: does she want to make this commitment?

“Elfnein?” Mrs. Tsubasa murmurs, one arm settling around her tentatively; Mrs. Maria stands in front of them, and in another burst of bravery, she tugs at Mrs. Maria’s sleeve to join them.

“I’m okay,” she says softly, sinking into the warmth of _her parents_ on either side of her. “I guess… I mean, I _know_ this is what I want. I want you to be my parents.”

And then they all start crying.

Happy tears.

Papa had told her, “Live, and know more of the world,” and that’s what she’s going to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. I lost 10k words and my laptop's keyboard is malfunctioning, so updates will continue to be irregular until I get everything back in order. Thank you for your patience.


	56. 2.56 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The family celebrates Christmas.

### FIFTY-SIX

Not having been raised in a Western household, she frankly has never understood the appeal of Christmas Day.

This year, however, she finds herself almost _giddy_ as she waits for Elfnein to wake up—giddy and nervous and light-headed, regardless of the fact that it is not she who wears the ridiculous Father Christmas costume.

“You know,” she remarks, unable to resist the opportunity, “I believe Father Christmas is… a bit more _rotund_.”

“Not going to happen,” Maria retorts flatly and with an unamused look to her.

Pulling Maria in for a quick kiss, she murmurs, “You know I love you no matter how you look… even with those bothersome whiskers of yours.” She gives the aforementioned beard a playful tug.

“Oh, stop it, you’ll mess up my disguise,” Maria pouts.

“Your _costume_ , you mean to say.”

Before Maria can retort, however, a sleepy, “Papa?” sounds from their bedroom.

Her breath catches in her throat—Maria makes as if to go, but she stops Maria, murmuring, “Let me. We would not want to ruin the surprise.”

But she cannot hide her true motive from Maria, who sighs and squeezes her hands.

“Go ahead, though you know she loves you, blunders and all,” Maria reassures her.

She has to laugh at that despite herself.

Her crushing guilt returns with a vengeance, however, as she lingers in the doorway of their bedroom. Truly, she is not fit to be a parent: she is too much like her father.

Yet Elfnein, eyes bleary and mouth pulled into a sad frown that makes her want to sob, mumbles, “May I have a hug?”

“Of course.” She readily accepts Elfnein into her arms, determined to chase away whatever nightmares assail Elfnein.

It is a frightening thing, being someone’s safety net—indeed, it is something of an absurd thought, Tsubasa Kazanari, a _parent_.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Elfnein says after a spell of silence.

Such bravery!

“As I am glad to be here for you, however gauche I may be.”

“Goshe?”

“Gauche,” she repeats, smiling slightly. “It means I am an awkward person in social situations.” And with that, her smile leaves.

Elfnein seems to contemplate something for a few moments.

“I don’t mind,” Elfnein says at last. In a near-whisper, she confides, “You r-remind me of… of Papa… except… not. D-does t-that… make sense?”

“Yes.” Oh, it does, all too well. For has she not caught herself pausing, mistaking Maria for Kanade on many an occasion?

Specters… inadequacy… wishes…

“Dad.”

Blinking, she glances at Elfnein in her arms.

Elfnein smiles bashfully, shyly, and requests, “M-may I c-call y-you… _Dad_?”

She inhales sharply.

Someone had once taunted her for her supposed “Daddy issues,” and more than once her friends had remarked that she was more of the “father” type and Maria the “mother” type.

None of that matters. Whatever notions of mother and father the world may have, she knows that she will _forever_ cherish the title bestowed to her by her daughter.

“Of course, my daughter,” she affirms aloud, with perhaps a trace of tearing her voice.

Elfnein sinks one more into her embrace, sighing contentedly.

At least this child, slight limbs so frail and small hands so tenaciously clutching at her shirt, who makes her wish she were not such an inadequate human, loves her nonetheless without reservation.

She takes a deep breath to re-center herself.

“Come,” she coaxes Elfnein, because she needs Maria by her side in this moment. “A surprise awaits you.”

Elfnein clambers off her immediately, evidently excited as she exclaims, “I forgot it’s Christmas!”

Thankful that Maria had set aside Elfnein’s clothes, she says, “Put on some socks first. The floor is a bit cold for bare feet.”

Of course, Elfnein tugs on her socks haphazardly and in the next moment drags her out the room.

“A surprise, you said?”

She makes sure to raise her voice as they approach the living room, saying, “Quite so, in the spirit of the holiday.” She hopes Maria is not taken aback by their hasty return.

In fact, Maria stands by their (admittedly last-minute) Christmas tree, proud as a peacock in her red-and-white Father Christmas suit.

“Ho-ho-ho!”

Elfnein bursts out laughing, and she has to muffle her own snickers behind her hand while Elfnein runs to Maria.

“Guess who brought presents straight from the North Pole?” Maria beams at Elfnein. “But I’m afraid the reindeer and elves couldn’t stay. We have to prepare for next year, after all.”

(That is to say that she refused to be a short elf. She has her own pride.)

Elfnein giggles, one of her hands tentatively tugging at Maria’s false beard.

“Shouldn’t Father Christmas be fat, though?” Elfnein asks with all the guile of a child.

“Did I not say as much?” she crows.

Maria blushes and stammers, “I’ve gone on a diet!” Maria softens, saying, “Merry Christmas, Elfnein.”

And when Elfnein murmurs, “Merry Christmas, Mama,” and Maria freezes, her breath catches in her throat, watching them.

Unable to resist, she pulls Maria and Elfnein into a crushing embrace—stars above, she loves them so, _so_ much.

Father is wise, after all: love might not be enough, but it certainly is a good starting point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good grief this took forever to type up. if you find any typos, please tell me; 98% of this was written with my laptop's onscreen keyboard and believe me it was a nightmare. at least it's okay if the author's note is messy, lol.
> 
> many thanks to those who have reviewed/ left kudos!! if anyone else wants to leave a review, it would totally make my day!
> 
> edit: thanks Vanui!


	57. 2.57 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas with the extended family.

### FIFTY-SEVEN

“What’s with the goofy smile?” Chris demands the moment she opens the door.

“ _Hello_ , Chris, it’s good to see you, too,” she reponds pointedly (not that she’s avoiding answering the question, not at all). “And I’m doing well, thank you for asking. Please, come in.”

Chris huffs, taking off her coat and brushing past her—and, tellingly, Chris pauses when she catches sight of Elfnein waving to her from between Kirika and Shirabe.

“That was rude of me,” Chris says, unexpectedly serious. “I apologize.”

Patting Chris’s shoulder and meeting her with equal seriousness, she replies, “I accept your apology. I know it’s out of your comfort zone.”

“Meh,” Chris shrugs, “it’s not so bad; you are family, you know.”

“Is that Yukine I hear?” Tsubasa calls from the kitchen.

“You bet it’s me!” Chris declares, plopping onto the sofa across the others. “Merry Christmas, kid. Merry Christmas, everyone.”

Elfnein’s soft, “Merry Christmas, Miss Chris,” is almost overridden by Kirika’s cheerful, “Merry Christmas! Can we open presents now that Chris is here?”

Chris rolls her eyes and Shirabe says, “We have to wait for Tsubasa.”

“Aw,” Kirika pouts; Elfnein pats her arm feebly.

“Here, go get my presents from the car if you’re so impatient.” Chris tosses her car keys to Kirika, who catches them with delight and promptly dashes away.

“So impatient, that one,” Tsubasa sighs as she narrowly dodges Kirika. “Reminds me of someone I know,” she adds.

“I’ve no idea who you’re talking about,” Maria says, taking the tray from Tsubasa.

Rolling her eyes, Chris mutters that they should “get a room.”

“Anyway, with Kirika busy, it looks like you get two cups of hot chocolate, Shirabe!”

“Woo, great,” Shirabe mumbles.

Hm. Maybe Shirabe is sick of the holiday drink by now? No doubt Kirika’s been drinking as much hot chocolate as possible simply for the spirit of it—at least Kirika hasn’t gone on a candy cane binge.

Blowing on her own drink, Chris says, “I brought with me some presents from the others, too. And a letter for you, Tsubasa.”

“Great!” she clasps Tsubasa’s hands before Tsubasa can get up to start pacing relentlessly (she knows that particular frown), “please remind me to give you our gifts to them before you leave.”

Elfnein asks then, startling them all, “W-what are y-you doing, M-Miss Kirika?”

To Maria’s surprise, Kirika’s voice sounds from above them:

“Just something I found in Chris’s trunk~”

“Oh,” Chris groans, “I thought I’d gotten rid of it—it’s from the headquarters’ leftover party decorations.”

Mistletoe dangles above her and Tsubasa from Kirika’s mischievous fingertips; she sighs, recognizing the gesture. Not that she doesn’t want to kiss Tsubasa, but, well—Tsubasa is beet-red and purposefully angling her face away from Maria.

“Aw, c’mon, Tsubasa! It’s tradition,” Kirika cajoles.

“No.”

“Am I that repulsive?” Maria asks in an exaggeratedly offended tone.

Tsubasa, however, backtracks hastily, “That is not what I meant!”

Elfnein starts giggling, and it’s enough for Tsubasa to relax against her side, to Kirika’s delight.

“One kiss?” Maria asks Tsubasa softly.

Blushing again, avoiding everyone’s eyes, Tsubasa nods. It honestly never fails to be endearing.

Their lips brush in the briefest of chaste kisses—she tightens her grip on Tsubasa’s hands to reassure—yet Kirika laughs delightedly over Chris’s demands that they _seriously_ get a room, Shirabe even claps a few times, and Elfnein beams at them as Tsubasa chuckles sheepishly.

What is it like, to see your _parents_ so madly in love?

She scolds herself for the inane thought; her past, including those past (foolish) wishes, should stay in the past now. She’s not that wistful child anymore.

So when Kirika leaves them in favor of standing behind Shirabe to shake her shoulders and request that they open their presents now, Maria beckons to Elfnein, commenting, “Why not? Seems as good a time as any to me.” She promptly squeezes Elfnein to her side when their daughter rejoins them, and catches Tsubasa’s sappy smile over Elfnein’s head.

Chris shrugs, studiously indifferent despite her knee bouncing with nervous jitters, and Shirabe smiles softly at Kirika.

“Then,” Tsubasa stands up with a quick smile to Elfnein, “I believe we should relocate to the family room?”

And so they all troop to the family room, mugs of hot chocolate in hand (and the bag of marshmallows in Chris’s and an excess of napkins in her own free hand for just in case).

“Nice,” Chris nods at seeing their modest Christmas tree. “Much better than the old man, who insisted on having a preposterously huge tree in the headquarters’ atrium.”

“I picked it out!” Elfnein declares proudly.

“You have good taste, kid.”

Kirika plops down in front of the tree, rummaging through the new collection of presents. “Okay, me and Shirabe first!” She thrusts a large box completely covered in red and green stick-on bows towards Elfnein, who takes it with a startled blink. “From the best aunts ever to the best niece ever!”

“We hope you like it,” Shirabe adds.

“Excuse you, but _I_ am the best aunt ever,” Chris cuts in as Elfnein carefully opens her present.

“A teddy bear,” Elfnein exclaims—and Maria and Tsubasa exchange a questioning glance at Chris’s sudden alarmed expression.

“How about you, Chris?” Maria suggests pseudo-casually.

Chris nudges another box, this one with gold ribbon and red wrapping paper, towards Elfnein and grimaces, “It isn’t exactly… an original idea, sorry.”

Sure enough, Elfnein finds another stuffed animal, though she’s still just as delighted when she announces, “A lion! I’ll name him Arthur. He’s going to have a lot of fun with Dáinsleif and Sumika and Mitsuko!”

Chris sighs in palpable relief, mumbling, “Thank goodness.”

“That was fast,” Kirika notes. “But I’m glad they have company! Who is who?”

As Elfnein explains, Maria leans over Elfnein to murmur to Tsubasa, “At this rate, she’s going to have an army of stuffed animals.”

Tsubasa snorts, “How much do you want to wager that my father and uncle will do the same when they meet her?”

But from Elfnein’s broad grin, it might not be such a bad thing. Elfnein should enjoy her childhood, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -laughs because Christmas at the end of March-
> 
> Thanks to everyone who reviewed! And thanks to baxter for requesting mistletoe kiss, stuffed animals, and fluff ^^ also thanks to Vanui for typo feedback. this chap was also written on my on-screen keyboard, so anyone plz tell me if there's anything off because I'm all jittery from coffee and anxiety and it's getting progressively harder to type..
> 
> Elfnein's stuffed animals for those interested:
> 
> Dainsleif: shark, bought by TsubaMari at aquarium
> 
> Arthur: lion, inspired by Saber's lion toy in UBW (or something of the sort), xmas gift from Chris
> 
> Sumika: bear, inspired by Yuri Kuma char of same name, xmas gift from TsubaMari
> 
> Mitsuko: bear, inspired by Yuri Kuma char of same name, xmas gift from ShiraKiri.


	58. 2.58 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some reassurances and a dash of serious conversation are in order for today.

### FIFTY-EIGHT

“Busy with work already? It’s not even nine yet,” Maria scolds upon entering the kitchen, heading directly for the pot of coffee left on the counter.

“Not quite,” she answers. She gathers up all the papers, settling them into a neat (and safe) stack in her satchel, before explaining, “The estate’s bills and affairs will not handle themselves, despite the holiday season.”

“Hmmm,” Maria’s hum of agreement turns into one of delight; there is nothing Maria prefers on a morning above freshly brewed coffee. “What about this?” Maria takes up the letter—ah, the letter.

Maria’s drowsily pleased expression vanishes into a disapproving frown as she reads the letter Chris had delivered on behalf of the clan. Maria even goes so far as to set down her mug with a firm _thunk_ (she hides a wince at the scratch that will no doubt arise).

Although she would like to say that the letter is inconsequential, that it is the same complaints from the year past, she knows it would only anger Maria further. Instead, she constrains herself to running her fingers over Maria’s tense knuckles.

“Are they _seriously_ telling you to step down?”

“They cannot,” she immediately reassures Maria. “That would require a formal process and a readily-available successor, the latter of which they have not. It is an idle threat,” which is nonetheless in bad taste, she knows. But to discipline the naysayers would be to follow in Fudou Kazanari’s footsteps.

Maria sighs, tossing the letter onto the table and muttering, “How can they be so polite in person, yet so insidious everywhere else?”

“Pride has turned them into cowards,” she says. It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth that, in this, she is thankful Fudou had kept her secluded throughout her childhood: the disdain of her extended relatives does not sting nearly as much because she sees them little more than strangers sharing her name and her father’s pride.

“You know you shouldn’t listen to what they say, right?” Maria, ever her defender, demands fiercely.

Her face squished by Maria’s hands, she has no choice but to agree, “Right.” Besides, even if a part of her had believed them at first, Maria’s passionate love for her is more than enough to reassure her.

She is, however, quick to append when Maria lets go, “Only if you acknowledge that what they say about _you_ is meaningless. I will not have them demean you in such a way.” Insults and the like to her own person are nothing compared to the pain she feels whenever Maria is the one under attack.

“You always sound so haughty when you’re defending my honor. I like it,” Maria smirks with a wink and a playful pinch to Tsubasa’s cheek. “But in all seriousness, of course I don’t pay any mind to what they say. It’s not _their_ opinion I care about.”

There is an undertone of genuine anxiousness in Maria’s voice, something her confidence cannot hide.

So she asks, “Then tell me why you look so troubled so early in the morning. It is not yet nine.”

Maria laughs wryly, shaking her head. “I can’t hide anything from you,” she grumbles, though she sighs in the next breath, “I’m just… concerned.”

“Tell me,” she implores, laying a hand on Maria’s.

“Do you think I’m doing a good job?” Maria blurts, and she tightly grips Tsubasa’s hand in both her own.

Her immediate answer is that _yes, of course you are,_ but that is not the answer Maria _needs_. Maria needs a proper conversation—a thorough discussion, not platitudes, however well-meaning they may be.

“As Elfnein’s mother, do you mean?”

Maria nods, “Yes. I see the rapport between you and Elfnein—” Maria sighs, her shoulders slumping—“I know it’s foolish to be jealous of you, but I can’t help it. Maybe… I guess I’m just too uncertain of myself. I walk on eggshells around her, because I don’t want to make her uncomfortable or ruin what we have in any way, but it’s _frustrating_.

“Mom was never so delicate with us when she took us in, even though we were all scarred orphans. How was she so confidant in her actions? I’m hyperaware of everything I do and I’m getting nowhere.”

“Truly?” she breathes, taken aback; she had not thought that something so profound has been troubling Maria. In fact, she had thought the opposite: Maria is the more collected of the two of them, more comfortable in her role as Elfnein’s mother figure.

Ah, but does she not know the saying? _Assuming makes an ass out of you and me_. Had her uncle not driven into her mind this lesson many a day in her youth?

She has failed her wife.

“I am sorry, Maria, for not noticing. I have been selfish in my own concerns,” she murmurs, pressing a repentant kiss to Maria’s hands.

“Silly, it’s not your fault,” Maria scolds her. What a pair they make: quick to place the blame on themselves, but refusing to hear a word of blaming the other. Truly, they are well suited for each other.

Returning to the matter at hand, she says, “I think Elfnein appreciates the space you give her. I, myself, may be closer to her because I have not had a choice. You had to work, and my own employment is far more flexible—the time she and I have spent together has naturally facilitated our present degree of comfort and understanding despite my own reservations.”

“I’m sorry,” Maria murmurs, and her mouth tightens in evident self-blame. “We had been preparing for an infant, not a ten-year-old child, and then I went and changed up our plans all of a sudden, forcing us to move much more quickly than you’d expected.”

She takes a moment to consider this.

It is true that their hasty progress had preoccupied her mind. Between all the changes and arrangements, most of her thoughts had focused on the present; moreover, she had been adamant about remaining impartial in her expectations for Elfnein.

Ah, but most of all: she had been fearful of delving too deeply into her mind, into the dusty corners where grief and old wounds dwell. That is her fault alone.

“Maria,” she sighs, sitting up to gather her wife into her arms, “it is not your fault that I have been lacking in forethought. I would say that it is my recalcitrant and susceptible nature that is to blame for my willful avoidance. I did not want to consider how I might resemble Fudou and Yatsuhiro, yet I am forced to, regardless.

“Taking up the mantle of parenthood is a task not to be taken lightly. It is my mistake for wishing to hide from the inevitable.” She takes a deep breath, and avows, “At the end of the day, _we_ are Elfnein’s parents, not Fudou and Nastassja.

“Whatever lessons we may glean from our own parents—important as those lessons are—they will not dictate our every move. It is true that this is an uphill battle, and a cyclic one at that; not quite attrition, but a battle that requires continuous renewal of defenses and a significant amount of time. I nevertheless am certain—” more certain than she has ever been—“that you and I… are good parents.”

Flinging herself into Tsubasa’s arms (and nearly knocking Tsubasa onto the table in the process), Maria declares, “You’re the best, Tsubasa. I’m proud of you, and me, and Elfnein. You’re _absolutely_ right!”

Heat suffuses her at Maria’s words.

She is _right_.

Perhaps she does not _require_ such validation, but it reassures her nonetheless.

“You’re a good ‘father’,” Maria says, pressing her lips to Tsubasa’s cheek. “You’re awkward, and a little bit too emotional, but you’re not distant like either of your fathers. You _care_ , Tsubasa, you care enough to overlook all your own insecurities to take care of Elfnein and enough to own up to your mistakes.

“That makes all the difference in the world.”

She blushes, all the way down to her neck, but she keeps in mind that this is not solely about herself.

“F-for the record… I believe you are a good mother. She and I look to you for strength, for a guiding hand, for reassurance. Regardless of how we might be unable to presently express it, never doubt that you are our rock,” she whispers against Maria’s ear—she feels almost unreasonably foolish, like a schoolgirl confessing to an infatuation, but this _has_ been a secret, idle dream of hers….

Giggling, Maria pushes at her shoulder, mocking, “Thanks, I _love_ being called a _rock_ , of all things. _Do_ go on, you’re doing _wonders_ for my self-esteem.”

“Maria!” she yelps, partly in response to Maria’s smart remarks and partly in her flailing to keep her precarious balance against the table.

Maria catches her, as she always does, and smiles with tears in her eyes.

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Several important announcements/explanations:
> 
> 1\. I won't have my laptop back for a few weeks; it'll probably be out for the rest of the month, honestly. I also have a few intense classes this quarter that are already starting to wear down on me (read: I have bad anxiety). Combined, this means that updates will be all over the place.
> 
> 2\. There will be a handful more of serious chapters, then approximately #65-79 will be "nichijou" type chapters. I have the crux of the last chapter, #80, already written. Please do feel free to leave suggestions, requests, questions to wrap up.
> 
> 3\. I have read everyone's reviews over the past few weeks and I've started replying to them (I AM SO SORRY TO Barker FOR GETTING YOUR NAME WRONG), but it'll take me a while to catch up for the same reasons as stated in 1.
> 
> Anyway, that's that. 
> 
> So... not to toot my own horn or anything like that... I've posted a one-shot "Hands, Among Other Things," if you'd like to read some angsty-ish Maria.
> 
> Please review! ^^


	59. 2.59 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's not that good with metaphors, honestly.

### FIFTY-NINE 

Flowers really are amazing: even in the middle of winter, they bloom in such a rainbow of colors!

Of course, they’d be buried under a lot of snow right now if it weren’t for Mrs—for _Dad_ and the other farm workers taking care of them. But Dad says the flowers would do just fine on their own if they’re meant to bloom in the winter; it’s the others, out-of-season and regional flowers, that really need the extra care.

Would flower fields in Germany’s winter be the same? Snowfall is different from place to place, but northern Germany in particular gets more snow than this, she thinks.

Ah, well… it doesn’t matter. It’s not like she’s ever going to go back there (though, maybe, if she asked—no, no).

“Penny for your thoughts?”

She nudges at a bit of snow that borders the trail, waffling; she _does_ sort of want to talk about it, but it could lead to _questions_ , which she _doesn’t_ want to answer. Mrs— _Mama_ wouldn’t pry, she knows that by now, yet she can’t help but be wary and re-cal-ci-trant.

Hasn’t she promised herself that she’d be brave, though?

…Being brave is more difficult than she’d thought. Besides, she doesn’t need to trouble Mama over something as silly as homesickness for a home that doesn’t even exist anymore.

“I was admiring the flowers,” she says, peeking up at Mama, who doesn’t look convinced.

Still, Mrs— _Mama_ nods, saying, “They’re pretty resilient, aren’t they? They’re a lot stronger than they look.”

She doesn’t know what to say after that, so the conversation falls apart as they slowly walk back to the house.

“You look a bit sad,” Mama says softly.

Keeping her eyes locked on the back gate so that she doesn’t accidentally make eye-contact, she shrugs, and mumbles, “N-not r-really.”

“Alright,” Mama sighs, squeezing her shoulder. “I just… you know, Tsubasa and I sometimes get a bit melancholic around this time of year, so we try our best to cheer each other up….”

“R-really?” she asks despite herself. She’s seen Dad upset, but she hasn’t seen Mama be anything other than happy, calm, or nervous—not that she _wants_ to see Mama sad, no, but it’s… well, she’s… morbidly curious.

She wants to know the _secret_ behind Mama’s self-assurance (for reasons that don’t need to be named right now, of course); it’s just that she doesn’t know how to outright ask without getting involved in a conversation she doesn’t want to have.

“Well,” Mama pauses to lock the back gate behind them, “it’s not something that ever goes away. It’s… an uphill battle, and a cyclic one at that.

“Lots of things in life are like that,” Mama adds, her expression diminishing to something sad. “Some things are one-time deals, but others require a lot more effort. Resolve, bravery, optimism, perseverance—all these so-called traits aren’t the work of a moment’s decision. That’s why it’s so _hard_ to keep at it, because you have to renew it constantly, and sometimes it starts to wear you down.”

That sounds awfully inefficient and unfair, but then, she supposes that’s what emotions are: inefficient and _unfair_. Everything might have been a lot easier if only—

“It’s also why you have the right to be proud of yourself for your progress, no matter how small it may seem.”

She directs a disbelieving frown toward the floor: _how_ can she be proud of her next-to-nothing progress? Although it’s nice that she’s not crying all the time at the drop of a hat, she highly doubts that’s anything to brag about.

Hands take her by the shoulders in a firm grip, and she blinks questioningly up at Mama, confusion momentarily overriding the swell of resentment in her chest.

Mama’s expression wavers when she says, “Don’t compare yourself to others. That’s a one-way ticket to being unhappy, Elfnein. I spent almost a decade trying to put myself back together after Serena died, yet everyone else—they kept living while I stayed stuck, and I _loathed_ being so _weak_.

“But then I met Tsubasa, who had the exact same problem, and do you know what I realized?”

Judging from Mama’s pause and expectant look, she guesses that this isn’t a rhetorical question.

But she doesn’t _know_. Everything Mama’s saying is nothing to her, nothing but a lecture she just can’t understand.

So she grits her teeth and shakes her head, trying to avoid the intense gaze directed at her; she’s only Elfnein, and Elfnein isn’t anywhere near as impressive as her sister or father, so what good is it trying to help her?

“I would never dare call Tsubasa weak,” Mama tells her softly, but with great solemnity, “and Tsubasa never thought of _me_ as weak, either, not when we were enemies, or we became friends and she realized how much of a dork I am, and _especially_ not when she would catch me crying all alone in my room.

“Do you see? There isn’t such a thing as ‘fast enough,’ or ‘too slow,’ or even ‘weak,’ when it comes to grief. All progress is precious, because _you_ put so much _effort_ , so much _time_ , so much _energy_ , into it that it can’t possibly be meaningless.”

“B-but—” she’s not sure what she wants to say; her protest is a half-formed feeling in her mind and the countless inexplicable emotions that leave her trembling.

Mama pulls her into a hug then, almost squeezing her too tightly.

“Flowers, Elfnein. You’re like a flower: more resilient than it looks like at first glance.”

_But it doesn’t make sense_ , she wants to say as her arms come up by themselves to grip Mama’s sweater.

“Give it time,” Mama whispers into her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah, some Maria and Elfnein bonding... over something very sad. Ah, well, heads up, it's a very important plot point that will get a lot more screen time in future chapters. Nonetheless, things will get lighter before the final chapter, so don't hesitate to send a request or a prompt or anything you'd like to see, like regarding Elfnein's first few days at school or the New Year's chapters that are coming up.
> 
> Thank you very much to everyone for your continued support! It really does mean a lot to me :)


	60. 2.60 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How to wear a furisode: a guide by Maria Cadenzavna Eve. Visuals not included. Comes with a side of serious conversation.

### SIXTY

The look of delighted astonishment on Elfnein’s face when she sees the _furisode_ arrangement is more than enough to convince Maria that this will be worth the time-consuming effort of putting on the traditional clothes.

(That, and the thought of how adorable Elfnein will look.)

But she still wishes Genjuurou hadn’t chosen now of all times to call; while she may have plenty of experience with kimonos under her belt by now, she’s not entirely sure of her aptitude with the _furisode_ , and this is really more Tsubasa’s forte in the first place.

“Well, let’s get started,” she says, shaking away her thoughts. “I hope you don’t mind staying still for a while, and I’m going to be pulling the cloth pretty tightly around you, so tell me if it’s too tight, okay? The whole process is a bit like dressing up a doll… only harder,” she adds wryly.

“O-okay,” Elfnein replies. Then, curiosity overcoming her shyness, Elfnein asks, “What are the clothespins for?”

“They’re a neat little trick Tsubasa taught me to keep the parts in place so that everything aligns the way it’s supposed to, but I don’t think I’ll need them much,” she explains as she picks up a pair of _tabi_ , and Elfnein nods with almost comical seriousness.

“Now, first we’re going to start with the _tabi_ socks—it’ll be difficult to bend down once you have the _furisode_ on, that’s why we put the socks on first.

“Honestly, the tradition of it is a bit lost on me,” she continues, kneeling down to slip the _tabi_ onto Elfnein’s feet, “since I’m foreign-born and foreign-raised. It’s kind of ironic that I ended up marrying such a traditional person,” she chuckles.

Her hands pause. She glances up at Elfnein, who blinks at her, a serious expression still on her face. This is _important_ for Elfnein—has anyone taken the time to talk to Elfnein about her expatriation? She knows Elfnein has lived in Japan for the last eight months or so, but Elfnein is such a quiet person, it’s doubtful she’s opened up to anyone other than Maria and Tsubasa.

“I know it’s a bit disconcerting, being an expatriate and acclimating to a new culture—let alone learning the _traditional_ culture—but we’ve made this land our home for the foreseeable future, right?”

Elfnein regards her with solemn eyes and shrugs.

Knowing when to back off is an important skill—even if it leaves her uneasy.

So, she forces herself to move on, “The _susoyoke_ comes next, see?” She holds up the first garment up. “It’s like a mix between a skirt and an apron; normally it takes the place of underwear, but no one has to know!” She wraps it around Elfnein’s waist, taking great care to keep her movements gentle. “Is that too tight?”

“M-m.” Elfnein shakes her head; there’s a bit of curiosity in her expression again.

“Its companion piece is the _hadagi_ ,” she gestures to the undershirt, “and then on top of the _hadagi_ and the _susoyoke_ goes the padding, which is basically just a towel. I fold it in three, like this, so that it fits around your hips. How about that?”

Elfnein mumbles, “I-it’s fine.”

“Good! Now, put your arms behind your back, and I’ll put on the _nagajuban_ —” she drapes the _nagajuban_ over Elfnein’s shoulders—“which is underwear part two, for protecting the _furisode_ or kimono from getting all sweaty. Kimonos are pretty difficult to clean, and pretty expensive to buy in the first place, which might be why they’re not as popular nowadays as everyday wear. Can you pull your arms through?”

“Mhm.”

“We adjust the _nagajuban_ properly around your neck,” she says, doing just that, “so that it’s like a triangle right across your throat, left over right.”

Elfnein giggles, “T-that’s ticklish,” when Maria keeps the _nagajuban_ in place with her hand—it makes her smile, relieved that Elfnein isn’t _completely_ upset.

“Hold still for just a little more, okay? The _koshihimo_ is this thin sash that goes around your bust line to pin the bottom layers in place. How’s that?”

“Tight,” Elfnein notes, squinting down at the knot on her front.

“I’m afraid it’ll all be rather tight, but we can loosen it up just a little bit.” She eases up on the sash, asking, “Better?”

Elfnein nods, “Mhm.”

Moving around to kneel behind Elfnein, she explains, “I have to pause here to make sure there isn’t any bunched-up cloth that would ruin the effect.” She tugs at the sides a bit, and then returns to do the same on the front side.

“And now is the actual _furisode_ part! You know, I kind of miss the billowing sleeves of the _furisode_ , even if it was annoying to keep them from getting into my food—I wasn’t very good at being careful like that, and it frustrated Tsubasa quite a bit,” she laughs ruefully—it hadn’t been the mess that had frustrated Tsubasa. Rather, it’d been the fact that Maria had embarrassed herself in front of Tsubasa’s relatives countless times. “I think you’ll be fine, though,” she adds, since Elfnein doesn’t have to worry about stuffy old men and women judging her every move.

And if Maria has any say in it, Elfnein will _never_ have to feel pressured by close-minded people.

“Put your arms behind you again, yes, and it’s almost like slipping on a robe, except with a lot more care on how it sits on you. I’m going to use a clothespin to keep the neck centered, so it might be a bit uncomfortable for a while, okay?”

“T-that’s fine.” Elfnein tilts her head a bit forward, her serious gaze roaming over the layers she currently has on.

And that reminds her, “The funny thing about kimonos is that they’re made from the same standard-sized cloth, yet they fit almost any body size and type… like so.” She tugs at the back again to get it to smooth out. “We’ll be using an _obi_ later on to hide the bulk, but first we’re going to use another _koshihimo_. Tell me if it’s too tight.”

“’Kay.”

“We tuck it in, and this is going to be a bit ticklish, too,” she says as she adjusts the excess of the kimono over Elfnein’s chest. She grins when Elfnein giggles as Maria’s hands pass over her sides to fix the back part of the _furisode_. “Next, we have to keep the collar of the _furisode_ about two centimeters away from the _nagajuban_ , for aesthetic purposes.

“And yet another _koshihimo_ ; we’re almost done. Is that okay?”

Elfnein scowls a bit at the tightening of the _koshihimo_ , but she nods.

“Don’t worry; after enough practice you get used to the constriction,” she soothes. “I’m going to put on a _datejime_ , which is this slightly wider sash—not as wide as the _obi_ —to flatten out the surface here.”

“We’re going to have to wait for Tsubasa to come back for the _obi_ , though, because I’m not very good at that part. For now, we’re done! Take a look in the mirror.” She steps aside so that Elfnein can see her reflection. “Hm, just straighten out this bit here, and… there,” she declares once Elfnein’s kimono sits to her satisfaction.

Nodding, she grins, “It suits you.”

Elfnein looks a bit preoccupied with swishing her wide sleeves in exaggerated motions, grinning widely; her gaze darts up to meet Maria’s in the mirror, and her grin softens to something a touch shyer.

“I d-don’t remember most of the w-words,” Elfnein says, her hands fidgeting with her sleeves, “but… I—I like it!” Elfnein scowls up at Maria with all the determination of a child.

And Elfnein’s still just a little girl, isn’t she?

“People might tell you that you stick out like a sore thumb, even dressed like this,” she warns, and Elfnein’s eyes water. “The people of the village might call you an outsider, since they’re not used to change; it takes them a while to get used to the idea. But don’t take it to heart—you’re perfect just the way you are.”

“I’m used to it,” Elfnein mumbles.

Maria frowns. She asks, cautiously, “What do you mean?”

Elfnein shrugs, averting her face.

“You can tell me,” she pleads, though she has a faint idea of what Elfnein means.

Hadn’t she read in Elfnein’s adoption record that the Malus Dienheim didn’t have a permanent residence?

Elfnein sighs and tucks herself into Maria’s arms; of course Maria instinctively tightens her embrace around her daughter.

“We moved a lot, and villagers didn’t like us staying too long,” Elfnein grudgingly admits. Her little hands tighten their grip on Maria’s shirt and she buries her head deeper into Maria’s shoulder. “I dunno what _belonging_ feels like.”

“You belong _here_ ,” is Maria’s fierce response, “with Tsubasa and I. No matter what anyone says, no matter the past, _we_ are your family now and you’ll _always_ have a home with us, okay?”

It takes a while, but eventually Elfnein whispers, “Okay.”

“Here,” she takes her handkerchief to wipe away the remnants of Elfnein’s tears, murmuring softly all the while, “it’s alright. I’ve got you.”

Once Elfnein steps away from Maria on her own, Maria goes back to adjusting Elfnein’s kimono—it goes to show how well she put it on, since there are barely any wrinkles.

Amazing; she’s actually a bit proud of herself for such a job well done.

“Let’s go show your dad, yeah?” she suggests. “Tsubasa’s going to be so happy.”

Elfnein nods enthusiastically.

She’s glad that this time she says it her breath doesn’t hitch—she has to keep her composure until she can safely unwind later.

For Elfnein’s sake, it’s not so difficult. That's what being a mother is, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Err... so, have about 900 words of how to put on a child's kimono. I apologize if anything is off or if I overshot. I took a majority of the description from watching this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q6-hiJrrywc , among other sources, but any errors are more than likely to be all my own.
> 
> If anyone's so inclined, I'm writing the actual New Years' chapter next, and I'd really appreciate having some references for it. Otherwise I'll rely on my patchy knowledge and google-senpai. We'll also definitely see more of the cultural situation addressed in the next chapter, based mostly on my community's experiences and Japan-specific research, so if you'd like to see anything in particular along those lines, feel free to leave a review.
> 
> Please review!


	61. 2.61 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Years' Eve, more present than past.

### SIXTY-ONE

For such a small child, Elfnein has good grip strength; Tsubasa’s squished fingers can so attest.

But the discomfort is a paltry price to pay for the free wonder she can see written in Elfnein’s upturned face.

The ruddy glow of the lanterns, the chanting of the monks, the bell’s deep _gong_ , the effervescent crowd, the crackling bonfire against the dark night—none of this has changed, yet… perhaps she is in a world far removed from what lives in her childhood.

“Hey, hey, are you going to finish your sake?” Kirika gestures to her forgotten cup.

“No,” she laughs, knowing Kirika’s intentions, and lets Kirika relieve her of her burden.

A mildly exasperated Shirabe scolds, “You’re going to get tipsy, Kiri.”

“But it’s _cold_ out here!”

The bell’s tolling obscures Shirabe's response. This close to the temple, the toll reverberates throughout her body, and Elfnein jumps in surprise, her exclamation also overridden.

She remembers being a child—dwarfed not only by the bell, whose ringing shook her to her bones, but also by her heavy kimono, bows from near-strangers, and the expectations of Fudou.

Once the echoes have faded away, she tells Elfnein, “It is nearly your turn.”

“C-can y-you come w-with me?” Elfnein asks, tightening her grip, though she continues to regard the monks in curiosity and awe.

“Gladly.” She smiles back when Elfnein briefly graces her with a smile.

Indeed, she had nigh _dreaded_ this celebration—it had brought her nothing but anxiety, for Fudou would not hear of _coddling_ her, adamant that she went about the New Years’ rituals on her own.

The bell tolls once again; it chastises her, telling her that she should leave the past behind. The old hurts will do her no good in this fresh year.

“Upwards and onwards,” she tells Elfnein when their time arrives.

“Yeah!” Elfnein grins, and she practically skips up the stairs with an energy Tsubasa herself lacked at Elfnein’s age.

The monk, an elderly man she thinks she might recall from somewhere, grins back at Elfnein. With a hand roughed by time, he gestures for Elfnein to take hold of the bell’s rope.

Hesitantly, Elfnein pulls her hand away from Tsubasa’s.

“Together?” she asks, her right hand hovering over Elfnein’s left.

“Y-yes!” Elfnein frowns in the stubborn determination of children.

So they ring the bell as one, the rumbling bass cleansing them for the new year.

“Thank you,” she murmurs to the monk with Elfnein echoing the sentiment; he smiles at them, perhaps a touch of knowingness in his expression, and gives Elfnein a jaunty little wave.

As they wait for Kirika and Shirabe, Elfnein bounces up and down on her toes, her absolute giddiness at having rung the bell erasing the traces of her previous nervousness. Elfnein’s hand finds her own once again, though Elfnein seems to pay it no mind, being much more preoccupied with watching the celebrations around them.

Now, if only they could find Maria and Chris.

“Here you are!” Maria’s voice carries over the crowd, as if summoned by Tsubasa’s thoughts.

Looking around, she asks, “Do you see Maria and Chris, Elfnein?”

Elfnein tugs at her hand, pulling her to a figure in blue—ah, there is Maria, absentmindedly patting Yukine’s arm. Chris looks unexpectedly dejected.

“Oh, good!” Kirika suddenly appears beside her, Shirabe in tow. “Now we’re all together again! Have you guys rung the bell yet? Did you get your fortunes? Have you tried the sake? You’ve _got_ to try it!”

“Yes, to all your questions,” Maria laughs, coming to a stop on Elfnein’s other side. “What about you all?”

“The bell is really cool!” Elfnein tells Maria, and the bell tolls in agreement.

Maria beams, “Isn’t it? Now, come on, I want to see what kind of fortune you get!” She leans in, whispering, “Chris didn’t get a very good fortune this year, so we have to be extra nice to her, okay?”

Elfnein nods solemnly as Chris grumbles, “I heard that.”

“That’s not good, Chris!” Kirika shakes her head, “You have to tie it to a tree _asap!_ ”

“Tying bad fortunes to a tree is supposed to ward off bad luck,” Maria explains to Elfnein, gesturing to various slips of paper on nearby branches.

She pulls a handful of coins out of her sleeve, giving one to Elfnein and saying, “Let us hope we have better fortune than Chris,” to which Elfnein giggles and Chris rolls her eyes in response.

“Even if we don’t,” Maria adds, “that doesn’t mean that we won’t give the year our best, right?”

And Elfnein straightens up, proudly declaring, “Right!”

Perhaps it is her imagination, or a trick of the fire’s shadows, but she fancies she sees on the other side of the fire her younger self standing beside Fudou: anxious, but with a glimmer of determination, even then.

She laughs softly. So it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm (barely) alive. It's been a while, hasn't it? Unfortunately, you'll have to bear with me until the end of the quarter, June 10th. On the bright side, I have my laptop back! As of last Tuesday, actually.
> 
> If you follow me as an author or check out the Love Live! fic archive, you might've noticed that I was working on a LL fic the past three or so weeks -- well, I must admit that it took up a lot of my attention/energy/time, heh, since it's my current interest. Nonetheless, I'll try to not neglect "Counting Sheep" again.
> 
> Anyway, on the topic of this chapter, I'm really sorry if I got the traditions mixed up; I wrote Tsubasa as Buddhist in a different story (the one that lost 10k words), but I don't remember for the life of me if she's Buddhist in this story or not. Feel free to correct me on anything.
> 
> Please review!


	62. 2.62 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected arrival.

### SIXTY-TWO

Dad comes back into the kitchen with a box containing a _mountain_ of mail.

“New Year postcards, _nengajo_ , are traditionally sent from friends, relatives, and businesses to patrons. It began as a way for distant relatives to keep in touch, though now it is mostly for New Year’s greetings,” Dad explains, setting the box onto the kitchen table.

From the stove, Mama calls, “Tell me when you find Hibiki and Miku’s card!”

“It might be a while,” Dad murmurs. She sighs, “One might assume I am a gregarious individual, from the number of _nengajo_ I send and receive….”

A few that have drawings on them catch her eye, so she asks, “M-may I…?”

“Of course,” Dad nods, smiling again.

There are a lot, she finds, that only have a monkey stamp on the front and fancy handwriting and kanji way beyond her current skill level on the back—maybe that’s just the handwriting, though. It’s kind of hard to tell.

The ones that really interest her, though, are the ones with drawings: a lot are monkeys—why monkeys?—but she finds a postcard that has cherry blossoms painted on it in watercolor and another one that has a kimono that looks a lot like the one Dad wore last night.

“Do you keep all of them?” There’s so many, she doesn’t think it’d be practical to do that, but it’d be sad to throw away their hard work.

Dad separates a few from the pile and shows them to her, replying, “I judge them based on sentimental value. Take these, for example. The text is printed and the front is stamped—these are impersonal, thusly they hold no sentimental value.” Then she pulls out another postcard, the one with the kimono, “Some spend quite a bit of time and energy.”

“Oh,” she nods. It’s a fair method. “I like this one,” she shows Dad a postcard with a messy sketch of snow-capped mountains and a castle tower peeking out in the foreground.

Somehow… it reminds her of Carol’s sketches. The style is kind of similar, maybe.

“That is from Tachibana and her family, hm. Perhaps their daughter drew it. She is about your age; I believe her name is—”

The doorbell rings, startling Dad into dropping the card.

Mama remarks, “Is that Shirabe and Kirika? They’re early,” and Dad excuses herself to answer the door.

It abruptly reminds her of her earlier nervousness: she’s going to meet Dad’s uncle and father.

Well, at least Aunts Chris, Kirika, and Shirabe will be here, too. Still….

“…early,” Dad’s stern voice floats back, chuckling echoing even further back. “These are _delicate_ matters. I would expect this sort of behavior from _Uncle_ , perhaps, but not _you_ , Father.”

“We’re sorry, we’re sorry,” the chuckling voice replies just as Dad appears in the doorway.

And behind her are—

Dad’s father and uncle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would've been a lot longer and posted a lot earlier, but then my friends dropped by during lunch (shock! I have friends at school!) and of course I opted for human company... heh.
> 
> At least this gives me time to think about whether I want tomorrow's chapter to include the entire family or break it up into two parts -- suggestions are welcome!
> 
> Please review ^^


	63. 2.63 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elfnein gains a couple more family members... sort of. They're getting there.

### SIXTY-THREE

She stares at Mr. Kazanari.

She’s pretty sure she just heard his bones crack, but for his sake she hopes that was only her crazy imagination.

“Don’t worry,” Mr. Kazanari—the _other_ Mr. Kazanari—chuckles. “Yatsuhiro is old, and it might be a little difficult for him to get up, but he’ll be _fine_.”

“You are not so young yourself, Genjuurou. I would see _you_ kneel without a chorus of creaking,” Mr. Kazanari—the one whose knees _creaked ominously_ when he knelt down at the low table—answers. His hands fold together in his lap; he’s calm, completely unworried (maybe she can see a bit of resemblance between Mr. Kazanari and Dad) about his bones.

To the side, Dad sighs, “His pride refuses to make use of the perfectly acceptable _chairs_ we have and insists on putting him through unnecessary strain.”

Old age must be a scary thing. Not even Mr. Ren, who had a bad leg, had sounded like that.

“Enough of that!” Mr. Kazanari claps his _enormous_ hands, looking excited as he plops down across from Mr. Kazanari-the-Elder; it makes her glad that she’s not sitting down yet, because she’s pretty sure she’s going to be totally dwarfed by Mr. Kazanari-the-Younger.

“Thank you for waiting,” Mama comes in with a tray of tea.

Mr. Kazanari-the-Elder murmurs, “We apologize for the inconvenience, Maria.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I know you were both looking forward to today,” Mama assures them.

“Elfnein,” Dad gestures at the open spot to her left and to Mr. Kazanari-the-Younger’s right, and he grins at her.

Her heart is beating pretty fast in her chest, but she tentatively sits down, across from Mama, who also smiles at her.

Nobody talks while Dad pours the tea—it must be another ritual thing, because Dad pours tea with very careful movements, leaving herself for last.

As soon as everyone has taken a sip—she grimaces at the bitter than usual taste—however, Dad murmurs, “Introductions are in order.”

She tries her best not to look panicked; she’s not sure how well she does, since she keeps her eyes very firmly on her tea cup (in fact, she starts counting the little blue flowers printed on the rim).

“Elfnein,” Dad says, gentle and soft, coaxing her to meet Dad’s eyes, “I present to you Yatsuhiro Kazanari, my father, and Genjuurou Kazanari, my uncle.”

First Mr. Kazanari-the-Elder bows, his elbows poking out as his forehead nearly meets the table and something creaks ominously _again_ , and then Mr. Kazanari-the-Younger does the same, only without the creaking.

“Father, Uncle, it is my pleasure to introduce to you my daughter, Elfnein Malus Dienheim.”

“It is an honor,” Mr. Kazanari-the-Elder replies, straightening up—she hopes his back is okay.

“Well met, Elfnein,” Mr. Kazanari-the-Giant nods with a delighted grin.

Luckily, she remembers to say, “P-pleased to meet you, s-sirs,” but this is still worse than when she first met Mama and Dad. She really, _really_ wishes she could skip this part and go straight to the—the what?

She hasn’t thought that far ahead.

“Call me _Uncle_ , if you don’t mind,” Mr. Kazanari-the-Giant requests, which coincidentally answers her question, “for we are family.”

More people to add to her family.

“ _Uncle_ ,” Dad warns.

His eyes crinkle as he says, “There is no pressure, Elfnein—indeed, if you don’t want to call me as such, you may call me by whatever name pleases you. But in the meantime, I would like to give you a gift.” He gestures to Mr. Kazanari-the-Elder, who—

Pulls out a fox from his kimono sleeve.

Yellow fur and a sky blue ribbon wrapped around its neck, offered to her now by Mr. Kazanari-the-Giant.

Not knowing what else to do, she takes the stuffed fox into her own hands, and Mr. Kazanari-the-Giant looks really happy.

“Foxes are s’posed to be red.”

Did she say that? Why’d she say that?

But Mr. Kazanari-the-Younger asks, “ _Must_ they be?”

She stares at him.

He stares back, his heavy eyebrows serious but not angry.

A collection of sighs from the other side of the table makes her glance questioningly at Dad and Mama; to be honest, she’d forgotten about them and Mr. Kazanari-the-Elder.

“This reminds me of when Tsubasa first met me,” Mr. Kazanari-the-Giant chuckles, settling back and smiling fondly. “She was a little younger than you, smaller, and _much_ warier. It was the most adorable thing, watching my tiny niece regard me with the utmost suspicion.”

“U-Uncle!” Dad sputters, and Mama hums in teasing interest, making even Mr. Kazanari-the-Elder shake his head.

Giggling despite herself, Elfnein buries her face in the fox’s fur and whispers, “Thank you.”

“You are very, very welcome, Elfnein.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, I'd be shy and wary of Genjuurou if I were as small as Elfnein (actually, at 5 ft even, I'm wary of anyone over 6 ft). The height difference alone is daunting, and his hands are, like, probably twice the size of Elfnein's. You know, I remember when I realized that my dad isn't actually tall; it was quite crushing.
> 
> Apologies for this being so late. I'll try to write the last (maybe last?) part of the New Years' Day arc early tomorrow.
> 
> Please review!
> 
> (P.S.: can anyone figure out who the fox is? ^^)


	64. 2.64 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not quite seasonal depression -- not for Mr. Kazanari, at least.

### SIXTY-FOUR

She can’t say she’s surprised when she finds Mr. Kazanari on the veranda instead of in the game room with the rest of the family.

Like father, like daughter.

“They’re a little rowdy, aren’t they?” she comments in lieu of announcing her presence. “Even Tsubasa and Elfnein have gotten caught up in their game of table tennis, though I’m more worried about the damage Chris and Genjuurou will wreck….”

He murmurs, “Indeed,” accepting the fresh cup of tea (it has to be the millionth one she’s prepared today).

Conversation with Tsubasa’s father is like pulling teeth.

At least she’s not completely in the dark; given Mr. Kazanari’s wallflower tendencies, she’s relatively certain that right now he feels out of place with everyone else. Getting him to admit to that, however, is the difficult part.

She married into _such_ a troublesome family—not that she would have it any other way. She remembers having no family at all: “Every year, I think back to the year Nastassja died. The year I left Kirika and Shirabe behind to work for the UN in London…

“I couldn’t have imagined having _this_ back then,” she admits. Day after day of isolation, night after night of loneliness, and a blur of hopelessness.

“One would think it a dream.”

His voice startles her out of her musing, but she nods when his words register.

Sometimes, she _does_ think it’s all a dream, too good to be true. Sometimes she wonders if she will wake to find herself in London, all dreary skies and dreary thoughts and that awful, dreary disconnect from the world.

“But it’s not a dream,” she says.

“As a young man,” he sighs, shaking his head slowly, “I had no desire for any of the trappings of the family head. I wished to be free, unfettered, and able to do as I pleased with my life. Father… disapproved….”

His shoulders droop.

Her hand hovers by his shoulder, uncertain and nervous.

“Perhaps it is a mistake that will never leave me. Perhaps a part of me will forever be that man with a dead wife and an unwanted child and a ruthless father. Perhaps it is too late for me to wish....” He sighs again.

She can see Tsubasa so clearly in Mr. Kazanari, in the way they both are so mournful in their disbelief that their lives are not dreams.

And she can see herself, and Kirika, and Shirabe, and Chris—none of them are strangers to this emotion.

Her hand settles on his arm; although she keeps it light, she exerts a faint pressure, because he needs the anchor.

“Are you scared?” It’s not her place to reassure him, not when she still feels a lot of anger at the _mismanagement_ of Tsubasa’s childhood, but she can give him this.

“Yes,” he nods. He admits, “I know not what to do with young children—with daughters.”

“Elfnein isn’t Tsubasa. In a way, you’re lucky,” she chuckles, “because all you have to do is be the doting grandfather. She’s my daughter, and Tsubasa’s, and _we_ are the ones who will have to weather through the trials of parenthood this time around.”

She doesn’t say it to make him feel bad. She says it so that Mr. Kazanari knows without a doubt that she and Tsubasa will be the parents Elfnein needs.

Finally, he turns to look at her, a rueful smile on his expression.

He murmurs, “You do not mince words, Maria. I thank you for it.”

“Elfnein doesn’t know what to do with grandfathers, you know. You can learn together,” she smirks, though there’s a trace of pain in her chest at her words.

This time, when he hesitates, his chin sinking into his chest as he regards his tea, it’s not a fearful hesitation—he’s thinking.

“Yes,” he nods, decisive. “We shall.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must be cursed -- my laptop malfunctioned once again, so I've sent it in for more service and... well... time's running out for a school project. I will probably continue to work on/off on "Counting Sheep," since we're in the second to last phase of this story, but don't be surprised if you don't see an update for a week or two.
> 
> For clarification:
> 
> Genjuurou, Yatsuhiro, ShiraKiri, and Chris are all at Tsubasa and Maria's place because it's a New Years' tradition to have lunch with family (if I'm not getting this wrong); it's something that was arranged off-screen in the "time" between the Christmas chapters nad the first New Years' chapter. Genjuurou and Yatsuhiro showed up earlier than expected, so that's what caught the others off-guard.
> 
> Also, this is the last New Years' chapter. Now Elfnein's going to start school ^^ do tell me if you want to see anything in particular happen/be addressed.
> 
> Please review!


	65. 2.65 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsubasa and Maria discover another facet to Elfnein (and Tsubasa learns more about parenting).

### SIXTY-FIVE

“—afraid it’s more about intuition,” Maria is saying as Tsubasa enters the room, “but with plenty of time and practice you’ll start to get the hang of it, okay?”

Elfnein scowls at the text, her pencil tapping quickly against the pages; it is clear that the past hour of studying it has worn on her patience, perhaps even her confidence.

Catching Maria’s gaze, she motions towards Elfnein in a silent question, to which Maria shakes her head minutely. She acquiesces, though she taps her watch to indicate that it might be time for a break—it is, after all, nearly dinnertime.

“Let’s go over it one last time, then we’ll take a break, yeah?” Maria picks up her own copy of the textbook to start anew.

“Okay,” Elfnein sighs, following Maria’s instructions. She places her index finger on the text once again and moves it along as she reads aloud, a technique presumably meant to facilitate reading.

Did she learn that at her previous school or with her father?

These small habits—quirks that have stories behind them, too many to count….

“‘… looked at it hard, and, as you m-might have expected, the l-letters cut in the stone were s-strange. But now a great wonder h-happened: for, as they looked, th-though the shape of the strange l-letters never al… al…’*”

“Altered.”

Brow furrowing further, Elfnein repeats, “A-altered. ‘… t-though the sh-shape of the s-strange l-letters never a-altered, they found that they could u-understand them. I-If only Digory had remembered what he h-himself had said a few minutes a-ago, that this was an en-enchanted room….’”

From her new vantage point on the couch, with Maria directly across her and Elfnein on the left-hand side, she can easily track Elfnein’s growing frustration and Maria’s corresponding concern.

“‘… What it said was s-something like this—at least th-this is the s-sense of it though the p-poetry, when you read it th-there, was better:

“‘M-make your choice, ad… ad-ven… adventure...’?” Elfnein halts, a defeated look passing over her face.

“Adventurous,” Maria gently corrects. “Go on, dear.”

Just the night prior, Elfnein had sat next to her, reading _The Trumpeter Swan_ , which is roughly at the same level of difficulty, in her opinion. At the time, Elfnein had occasionally gripped at her sleeve to ask for clarification; the dictionary, however, had sufficed for most of Elfnein’s queries.

She is certain that this simple passage from _The Chronicles of Narnia_ should not give Elfnein such difficulty.

Maria makes as if to stop Elfnein’s current endeavor, but Tsubasa makes a sharp motion with her hand that Maria fortunately sees and heeds, if with a bit of reluctance.

This cannot be a matter solely of reading comprehension.

Elfnein stumbles to the end of the passage; she doubts that Elfnein, in her preoccupation, has grasped the intended moral lesson.

“Impeccable timing,” she cuts in, forestalling the burgeoning tension, “for dinner is ready.”

“Oh, good!” Maria smiles, but briefly frowning once again when Elfnein remains glowering at her textbook.

Glowering—frustrated, upset, perhaps even angry.

This is a first.

“Come on, it’s time for a break,” Maria coaxes Elfnein, thankfully sparing Tsubasa the task of having to delve into the situation, clueless as she is.

“’Kay,” Elfnein mumbles, pushing away from the low table and scrambling to her feet, missing Maria’s comforting hand by a hairsbreadth.

Dinner, initially, is quiet.

Both she and Maria fret over Elfnein’s sullen countenance, and Elfnein pushes her food around her plate, now more _forlorn_ than frustrated.

All the excitement from this morning’s meeting with Principal Fukube has vanished.

“Are you nervous about the entrance ceremony, Elfnein?” Sometimes the straightforward approach is the best one.

“S-sort of,” Elfnein sighs.

Maria says, “I’m sure you’ll make plenty of friends, Elfnein.”

Elfnein does not look convinced in the least.

Come to think of it, Elfnein has never mentioned friends or classmates or anything of the sort from the orphanage.

Oh, dear.

“What if—” Elfnein hesitates, biting her lip.

“Elfnein?” Maria prods, resting a hand over Elfnein’s slack grip.

It comes out so faintly that she nearly does not hear Elfnein ask, “What if no one likes me?”

Oh, no.

“You won’t get along with everyone, I’m afraid,” Maria sighs, regretful—

“—and it might take some time for others to warm up to you,” Tsubasa appends, for she, too, wishes that certain truths were not necessary—

“—but we’re certain that you will make friends eventually, Elfnein,” Maria finishes. “You have to give it time, and you shouldn’t let yourself get discouraged, okay?”

Elfnein nods.

From the doubt that Elfnein cannot yet mask, it is clear that this will be a matter to revisit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Excerpts from _The Magician's Nephew_ ; there's not really an English equivalent to learning kanji, so I tried to approximate it through vocabulary... which is a bit difficult, given how easy the fifth grade texts I could think of are. I also left out the explanation for the remedial/catch-up work Elfnein is doing, but she's not very far behind and I think it's self-explanatory.
> 
> Anyway, I have my computer back (the only good news I currently have). 
> 
> Next chapter will probably be Elfnein's first day of school (part one). Suggestions are welcome!


	66. 2.66 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's important.

### SIXTY-SIX

There are butterflies in her stomach and she might be kind of lightheaded and her hands are definitely trembling.

Maybe she needs to take a seat before her knees give out. Oh, wait, she’s already sitting down.

“I-I’m ready,” Elfnein says, her hands clutching at her backpack straps and her school cap perfectly centered and her bowtie just a bit lopsided and it’s about half an hour too early to head out.

Her little Elfnein is about to go to _school_ —obviously, of course, but where has time _gone?_ It seems as if it was just _yesterday_ that she caught sight of Elfnein’s blonde hair at the orphanage!

“Let me adjust the bow for you,” Tsubasa says, because at least Tsubasa has the presence of mind to not send their daughter off to school with a lopsided bowtie.

“It’s kind of early,” she manages to say at last, watching Tsubasa’s deft fingers retie Elfnein’s bow to be perfect. Thankfully her voice is steady. “Why don’t you have something to eat for breakfast before we go?”

Elfnein looks a little green at the suggestion.

“Nervous?” she asks; she knows the feeling all too well, and she’s not even the one going to school.

“A-a little bit.” Elfnein shuffles to her at a light nudge from Tsubasa.

She nearly crushes Elfnein in her arms the moment Elfnein is within reach—nearly bursts into tears at Elfnein’s startled squeak, too.

“Have a bit of toast,” Tsubasa advises.

“Some fruit, too,” Maria adds. Elfnein is a growing person who needs a well-balanced diet, and not even nervousness will get in the way of that.

Only twenty minutes later—Elfnein’s restlessness easily extends to Maria and Tsubasa—they are in the car, on their way to the train station.

They are on their way to Matsuoka Elementary School for Elfnein’s first entrance ceremony. Well, not her _first_ -first—it’s not even the first entrance ceremony of the school year—but it’s a first for _them_ , collectively and individually.

It’s _important_ in so many ways.

Since they’re early for the train, she suggests, “Let’s take pictures!” Tsubasa might no longer have an obsession with photography, but Maria is more than ready to take up the mantle: she brought two cameras, each with completely empty SD cards.

She puts one in Tsubasa’s hands, and the way Elfnein’s eyes light up, quietly excited, is something she wants to treasure forever.

Tsubasa smiles, a hesitant and conflicted smile, as she accepts the camera.

Yes, it’s important.

It’s important to remember.

“Ready?”

Elfnein clutches at her backpack straps, nodding; even her nervousness can’t stop the grin that pulls at her mouth and the light that shines in her blue eyes.

By the time the train pulls into the station, they’ve accumulated a good number of photographs of the three of them—Tsubasa holding Elfnein’s hand, Elfnein pressed close to Maria’s side, Maria and Tsubasa framing Elfnein, amongst many others.

By the time they reach Matsuoka’s neighborhood, Tsubasa has shaken off her reluctance and is taking pictures of every little thing: Maria and Elfnein looking at the station map as Maria reminds Elfnein, for the umpteenth time, what route they need to take; Elfnein pausing to watch a double-decker bus pass by; Maria and Elfnein holding hands as they cross the street.

And, by the time they enter the campus, Maria starts to think about Kirika and Shirabe’s graduation, and Nastassja’s insistence that they not fall behind even though they were on the run, and Serena’s dream to go to school, and herself, who hadn’t had a formal education but became a teacher anyway—

Reasons why this is _important_.

“Parents, to the back! Students, up front with your homeroom teachers!”

“Hold on,” she asks a wide-eyed Elfnein, “I want to get one last photo of the three of us.”

Tsubasa asks a nearby parent to take it for them; they huddle together, Elfnein’s grip tight on Maria and Tsubasa’s hands, and the person gives them a thumbs up barely a second later.

“Thank you,” she tells the man, though her eyes stay on the picture of her family, together.

“You’re very welcome. Isn’t it funny, how time flies?”

She chuckles, a sob stuck in her sternum, “It is.”

“Maria,” Tsubasa murmurs, and the other parent takes his leave with a wave to them.

“Elfnein,” she says, but she has to take a deep breath. She places her hands on Elfnein’s shoulders, firm, and says, “Tsubasa and I will pick you up right after school, okay? Wait for us inside the school gates, don’t stray too far from the supervising teachers, and, most importantly—”

“—have fun,” Tsubasa says.

“I-I will!” Elfnein nods vigorously.

They have time for one last hug, whispering last-minute words of encouragement and love, before Elfnein runs off to join Mr. Oreki, her new homeroom teacher.

Tsubasa’s hand slips into hers now.

“She’ll be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nostalgia is great.
> 
> Next chapter is from Elfnein's pov ^^
> 
> Thank you to all my guests who've recently left kudos (if you leave a review it would totally make my day)!


	67. 2.67 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tumultuous first day.

### SIXTY-SEVEN

“My—my n-name i-is E-Elfnein M-Malus Dienheim.” Her trembling hand smudges the katakana of her name; she can already hear a few smothered snickers. “I-it’s n-nice, uh, nice t-to m-meet y-you all.” She bows quickly, keeping her eyes in a straight line from the floor to the back of the classroom so that she catches the others’ stares only on the edges of her gaze.

At least at the orphanage—

“Thank you, Miss Malus Dienheim. Take a seat at the empty desk to the right of Miss Darahim,” Mr. Oreki says, and someone near the back raises their hand in response. “Everyone, please help Miss Malus Dienheim feel welcome here.”

“Yes, sir,” the class replies, lackluster in their response. But that’s okay; they’re probably wishing they were still at home instead of at school.

She manages a shaky smile at Miss Darahim in thanks when she reaches her desk, but Miss Darahim only blinks, her hand dropping carelessly. Dark blue eyes go back to looking out the window in apparent boredom.

Well. Okay. That’s… that’s better than the blatant staring and boredom of everyone else around her—right?

 _Don’t get discouraged_.

“Since we have a half-day,” Mr. Oreki says, dragging her out of her thoughts, “we will go over the trimester’s schedule, review your winter assignments, and after lunch we will spend the rest of the time studying this month’s moral lesson.

“Take out your planners to write some of these dates down. Starting on Monday, we will ….”

As she looks up to jot down what Mr. Oreki is writing on the board, she catches someone’s gaze, but she quickly snaps her eyes to the board.

Her heart’s pounding in her chest.

“… Please do not forget to give your parents the survey ….”

More glances back to her, and maybe some whispers, too indistinct to make out.

“… Pass your assignments to the front. I expect to see all ….”

She hands her assignment to the person in front of her, who mutters, “Oh, you actually did it? You have nice handwriting.” She smiles nervously in response (though inside she’s _thrilled_ at the compliment).

“… Let us see, Miss Tohsaka, please read the passage.”

“Yes, sir,” a girl near the front says, standing. “‘The thing in the middle of the room was not exactly a table ….’*”

Honestly she’s kind of sick of reading the excerpt, but at least this time the letters and words aren’t blurring together. Miss Tohsaka has a nice voice, too, which somehow makes it easier to concentrate on the words.

“Excellent, Miss Tohsaka. You may sit down. Mister Emiya, continue where Miss Tohsaka left off.”

“Y-yes, sir!” says a voice somewhere behind Elfnein. “‘They both looked at it hard and—and as you might have e-expected, the letters cut in the stone were s-strange. B-but now a great wonder happened: for, as they looked, though the shape of—of the strange letters never a-altered ….’”

There’s a quiet snicker; it’s not her who’s reading, but she feels a flare of embarrassment because it makes Mister Emiya stumble even more, which spurs the taunting laughter further.

She’s glad she’s not the one reading.

“Mister Matou! Apologize to Mister Emiya and continue to the end of the passage.”

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, Emiya,” replies Mister Matou, a tall boy a couple of seats in front of Elfnein. He turns around to face Mister Emiya—with his back turned to Mr. Oreki, he doesn’t look sorry at all.

She is very, _very_ glad she’s not the one reading.

“Very well. Continue, Mister Matou.”

Ages later, it’s finally, _finally_ , it’s lunchtime and Mr. Oreki dismisses the students.

“Miss Darahim and Miss Malus Dienheim—” she wishes her name were not such a mouthful and she wishes she could just slip away to some quite spot—“stay a moment, please.”

“Yes, sir,” she says, but she doubts he can hear her over the chatter of the other students.

She’s glad her nerves are buzzing too loudly to really register what they’re saying as they head out, but she can feel their stares on her.

She stays at her desk, keeping her head bowed, until there’s no one left except her, Miss Darahim, and Mr. Oreki. Only then does she go up to Mr. Oreki’s desk.

He gives her a faint smile and says, “You are doing well, Miss Malus Dienheim.”

“Th-thank you, sir,” she blinks, surprised at the encouragement, since she hasn’t done anything yet.

“Miss Darahim,” Mr. Oreki continues once Miss Darahim joins them, “you will be Miss Malus Dienheim’s guide for the foreseeable future. You will check in with each other before class, at the beginning of lunch, and at the end of class. Additionally, you will partner with each other for all activities unless I say otherwise.” He hands them each a paper. “Have your guardians sign this for Monday. Questions?”

“No, sir,” Miss Darahim says and Elfnein echoes.

“Good. Dismissed, children. Please be sure to eat your lunch in a timely fashion.”

Mr. Oreki leaves before them, though Miss Darahim returns to her desk instead of leaving, so Elfnein trails behind her.

Okay. This is her chance to make a friend! They’re stuck together, so they might as well be friends, right?

“U-um, M-Miss D-Darahim—” she’s glad Miss Darahim doesn’t turn around, because she’s sure her face is awfully red—“th-thank you, um, f-for y-your help!”

“You don’t need to thank me, Miss Malus Dienheim,” is Miss Darahim’s bored response, and well, that’s okay.

But what does she say, now? She has to say _something_.

“Y-you can, can call m-me Elfnein—if y-you’d l-like!”

Miss Darahim snorts, “Really? I’d rather not.”

“O-okay.” Her fists clench.

 _Don’t get discouraged. It might take a while. Not everyone will like you. It’s fine_.

It’s fine.

It’s _fine_. She didn’t have friends at—

“Anyway,” Miss Darahim says, resting her chin on her hand, still looking outside, “I live kind of far, so I only make it to school five minutes before the bell rings, sometimes less. Is that alright with you?”

She knows it’s not really a question, and she can’t blame Miss Darahim for it, but she answers, “I-it’s f-fine.”

“We might as well meet here, since we sit next to each other.” Miss Darahim stands up and walks to the door, leaving Elfnein standing between their desks.

“Hey,” Miss Darahim glances back to her, making her straighten up, “stay away from Shinji Matou. He’s the one who was laughing at Emiya earlier. Matou is a bully and you look like easy pickings.” Miss Darahim leaves.

Well—at least—at least she got some advice, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Borrowed again from _The Magician's Nephew_.
> 
> I've already written the next chapter and I think I'll post it Tuesday mid-morning -- or Monday night if I'm feeling particularly sad. It's written in an experimental style again; for some reason Tsubasa works really well for this kind of thing, lol.
> 
> Please review! (You can totally send in prompts/request things! I plan on introducing at least one more Autoscorer before the end and there's that one Tsubasa&Elfnein chapter I promised way back when, but other than that I don't have much planned out so it'd be a big help and joy to have requests ^^)


	68. 2.68 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected emotion plagues her.

### SIXTY-EIGHT

“Until later,” she repeats, waving, even though Maria is too far away now to hear her. At least Maria waves back one last time before entering the main building.

Her hand falls back to her side, limp.

She hovers at the gates of Lydian—anxious, uncertain, restless.

A thought occurs to her:

Lydian is not the school she used to know. It is no longer her place to be here. But if it is not her place, here, then where is?

 

* * *

 

Perhaps it is the locale’s proximity, or perhaps it is the sense of nostalgia that blankets her, or perhaps it is the need for human interaction.

Regardless of the reason, she finds herself in front of the Second Division’s headquarters.

“It is appropriate,” she muses, “that I seek familiarity in these changing times.”

And it is, indeed, familiarity. The Second Division has been her home, regardless of its location, for almost as long as she can remember.

Correction—it _was_ her home, until she returned to the place she hated.

Until she had the strength to build her own home.

 

* * *

 

“Tsubasa!” Aoi and Sakuya exclaim upon catching sight of her; she had intended to slip in unnoticed, but she cannot hide here.

“Good morning,” she greets, joining them at the lounge chairs.

“Actually,” Sakuya chuckles, “it’s noon, as of five minutes ago.”

Where has time gone?

Smiling knowingly, Aoi asks, “Feeling a little lost?”

“Yes,” she concedes, for it is true enough.

“Master Yatsuhiro was the same, you know,” Sakuya informs her. “Well, it happened when you started high school, but he felt it all the same. He stayed here with the commander until you got out of class, all that first week.”

It takes her by surprise, even now.

 

* * *

 

“It was kind of lonely around here without you and Maria, before Chris and Shirabe and Kirika came back.”

“That was not my intention.”

“Oh, I know, I know! You were with family. You know how it is, though: loneliness makes you think, and sometimes those thoughts aren’t thoughts you want to have.”

“How true.”

“So?”

“So, what?”

“Tell me what’s on your mind!”

“Ah.”

“Mhm.”

“…Today was the first entrance ceremony I witnessed for my daughter.”

“Oh! That’s right! Wait until you get to go to the first entrance ceremony of the school year, though! It takes your breath away.”

“Does it?”

“ _Completely_.”

“Hm…. Say, Hibiki.”

“Yes?”

“…Did you feel… lost, the first time?”

“…No, I didn’t. Miku definitely did, though.”

“Ah….”

“I think, for me, it’s because I don’t have that strong a connection to Carol yet. We still have a barrier between us.”

“I—I am sorry….”

“It happens, Tsubasa. Some things take more work than others.”

“So it is.”

“Carol isn’t very good at managing her emotions yet, and I’m not very good at helping her.”

“But you will be…?”

“I hope so. My point, though, is that you’re always going to feel lost, in one way or another.”

 

* * *

 

“Perhaps I thought of children—fleetingly, once upon a time.”

He crosses his arms, and though his temples are grey and time has left its mark in deep lines, he is still the imposing figure she met as a little girl.

“And, perhaps if I had delved further, I would have confronted many obstacles and many buried thoughts. But what need did I have for children when I had you?”

“Uncle.” She knows not whether she means to thank or question him.

He laughs, nods, “Yes. I’m only your uncle. That does not mean you did not consider me a second father, nor that I did not consider you a daughter. Who will deny that I raised you just as much as Yatsuhiro did?”

She can only nod in response.

What she feels for the three guardians she has had—well, it is messy, and she is not sure she wants to speak of it now, when the point is moot.

“You have purpose, as a parent, even when you feel lost. And, you should know, a part of you will always feel lost.”

 

* * *

 

She thinks about it all as she waits outside Matsuoka’s gates for her wife and daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno. I love parallels, even when they've been brought up ad nauseam.
> 
> Review, please?


	69. 2.69 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's some anxiety and maybe a change of heart...?

### SIXTY-NINE

She has half a mind to just eat lunch inside the classroom, where it’s _safe_ , but she takes a deep breath, musters up the tatters of her courage, and gathers her lunch and a book in her arms.

Alright. She can do this.

She _can_ and _will_ go to the cafeteria, find an empty spot, and eat her lunch.

It’s as easy as it sounds.

But—what if they stare at her?

Her hand freezes on the classroom door as a familiar buzzing makes its home in her chest.

What if there’s no open spot and she has to sit next to someone?

What if she has to _talk_? She’ll stutter and they’ll laugh and it’ll be the _end_ of the _world_.

 _Live_ , Papa had said. _Live, and know more of the world_.

She can’t. She’s already run out of bravery. There’s nothing left in her.

 _You shouldn’t let yourself get discouraged_ , Mama had said.

But it’s so _hard_.

She—is trembling. She’s hungry and she knows that the more time she spends panicking, the less time she’ll have for lunch. She’s paralyzed, stuck in front of the classroom door. She is—

 _Recognize your anxiety_ , Dad had said.

There—yes, that’s the memory she needs right now.

She’d been panicking about meeting Dad’s father and uncle, and Dad had walked her through her anxiety. What had Dad said?

 _Recognize your anxiety._ _Notice which thoughts are the ones that frighten you._

 _Take a deep breath_.

So she does—her lungs expand and relax. Her heart still beats fast when she thinks of what awaits her in the cafeteria, but this is a start.

_Now, examine those thoughts. Breathe, and consider: perhaps these thoughts are exaggerating the truth. Do we not make this mistake?_

Well, she knows for sure that the world won’t end anytime soon (probably, given that the sun isn’t supposed to give out for a billion more years); her embarrassment isn’t _that_ important.

_And, should your fears come to pass, would they be insurmountable?_

In-sur-mount-able.

No, no they wouldn’t be. It would probably take her a long time to get over her profound embarrassment, but it’s not like she _needs_ friends. She went half a year—maybe a little longer than that—at the orphanage without making friends and it wasn’t so bad. Here, she has her parents (her _parents_ ) and a bunch of extended family members to keep her from feeling lonely.

…It’d be _nice_ to have a friend, though. Someone to talk to during school.

She shakes her head, telling herself, “I’m going to be brave,” and opens the door before she can take it back.

Miss Darahim stumbles back, her face even redder than Elfnein’s.

“Um—s-sorry?” she squeaks, also taking a step back.

Miss Darahim, though, doesn’t say anything. She’s frowning past Elfnein’s shoulder and she’s clutching something in her fist and she’s blushing—it doesn’t make sense.

Her anxiety gnaws at her, reenergized. It’s an unexpected development.

“I thought that maybe you didn’t know where the cafeteria is,” Miss Darahim finally says.

What?

“Come on, the bell rings in fifteen minutes.”

Miss Darahim’s gaze skitters away from her own when they meet—but maybe this is…?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Squints- maybe it's just me, but something seems a little off about this chapter. I can't for the life of me pin it down, though. To be clear, the conversation with Tsubasa that Elfnein remembers took place off-screen.
> 
> Anyway, ten more chapters left! Let's hope I can get them done before the quarter ends; I have about five chapters vaguely planned out and the rest are undecided (hint, hint).
> 
> Please review ^^


	70. 2.70 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things are inevitable.

### SEVENTY

Ten more minutes.

She totals the points on the assignment she’s grading.

Still ten minutes left.

Her pen clicks—unnoticed, until Miss Akemi mutters, “Kazanari, stop that.”

“Miss Akemi!” Miss Kaname scolds before Maria can apologize, “don’t you remember how anxious you were when our Haru started school?”

 _Well_ , Maria thinks as Miss (Mrs.?) Kaname sputters and Miss (Mrs.?) Akemi buries her face in her hands and the teachers’ office explodes into upheaval, _you learn something new every day_.

Anyway, in this commotion, no one will notice if she slips out a few minutes early, right…?

…Right, but she has a duty to her job and her students, even if she really, _really_ wants to see her daughter.

She sighs.

Five more minutes.

[***]

Tsubasa looks as anxious as Maria feels.

“Breathe, darling,” she advises, patting Tsubasa’s knee.

“I know.”

They hold hands and Maria feels twenty-one again.

They are early.

[***]

Is that Leiur Darahim walking next to Elfnein?

“Is that not…?” Tsubasa murmurs, echoing her thoughts.

Their daughter _probably_ hasn’t made a new friend, judging from previous knowledge of Leiur Darahim and the girl’s own unimpressed expression as she walks half a step behind Elfnein.

But there’s a small, shy smile on Elfnein’s face.

Maria’s heart sinks.

“Maybe we should talk to Mr. Einzbern,” she suggests, because—

“He is not one for discipline.” Then, reluctantly, Tsubasa adds, “We should not shield her from the truth, Maria. Our world is a stern one. Moreover, should we not give Miss Darahim the benefit of the doubt?”

Something hot flares in her chest—whispers that _still_ follow Hibiki, smirks that mocked Chris’ personality in high school, cold shoulders turned to Shirabe—because she doesn’t want to be forced to watch and do nothing.

A known bully dogs her daughter’s footsteps.

But she also knows: the distrust in Tsubasa’s eyes that first year, the arguments between Miku and Hibiki, the guilt that Kirika carries even today. She knows the struggle of _reform_.

“It’s not supposed to be like this,” she protests regardless, watching Leiur Darahim roll her eyes at something Elfnein says. “Hasn’t she been hurt enough?”

Tsubasa sighs, pained, “We needn’t philosophy, Maria.”

Elfnein catches sight of them. Her eyes are a bright blue and her smile is the smile of someone who hasn’t learned cynicism.

Leiur Darahim walks away.

[***]

“—then I had lunch with Miss Darahim—”

Her fingers tighten on the envelope Elfnein had given her on behalf of Mr. Oreki.

She wants to interrupt, to warn Elfnein away from Leiur Darahim, but she can’t bring herself to cut short Elfnein’s delighted chatter.

“—took us to the library and let us check out one book, so I got one on the feudal history of Japan since I already have a bunch of fiction books—” Elfnein pauses to take a deep breath.

Chuckling, Tsubasa interjects, “Then you had a good day?”

Elfnein nods enthusiastically.

Maria isn’t so sure.

Their stop is approaching.

“A-are y-you okay?”

“Just a little surprised that time goes so quickly,” she replies with a smile that’s only partially forced. “Could you give me a hug? Maybe that will make me feel better.”

Elfnein doesn’t hesitate.

[***]

“‘To Mrs. and Mrs. Kazanari, guardians of Elfnein Malus Dienheim,

“‘I have assigned Miss Leiur Darahim as your daughter’s guide for the foreseeable future. Although I am well aware of Miss Darahim’s and Miss Malus Dienheim’s respective histories, as well as your worthy concerns, it is my hope that the arrangement will be mutually beneficial to the children. Please accept my request for time and patience regarding this matter.

“‘Sincerely, Mr. Houtarou Oreki, head teacher of the fifth grade.’”

There’s an attached sheet asking for their signatures in acknowledgement of the letter.

She sighs.

Tsubasa murmurs, “They are children, indeed. We should trust Mr. Oreki’s judgement.”

“For now,” she concedes and hopes she doesn’t regret doing _nothing_ again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly different again.
> 
> Please review ^^


	71. 2.71 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She'll find it -- eventually.

### SEVENTY-ONE

“Now, if I were Maria, where would I hide incriminating photos of my _darling_ wife’s twenty-first birthday celebration? A flash drive stowed away in a dusty cabinet? A camera tucked behind innocuous trinkets? An envelope of photographs hidden in a forgotten book?”

Well, photographs _and_ a fifteen-minute video clip, apparently.

How troublesome.

Their move from their apartment to the estate had not unearthed the offending items as she had hoped. Unfortunately, the estate offers _many_ more hiding places than the apartment had, which makes a thorough search infeasible if she wants to keep from alerting Maria.

It restricts her to looking during early mornings and late nights, when Maria sleeps, such as this moment. Not knowing the precise nature of the evidence also poses a thorn in her side.

“Don’t suppose you could give me a hint, hm?” she asks the portraits of her ancestors. “It is a most grave matter of reputation, sirs and ladies. Surely you would not tolerate the mockery of your successor?”

They scowl at her, disapproving as ever and unmoved by her half-hearted plea.

Ah, well. She has never been able to meet their standards.

“What—” a yawn— “are you doing?”

“Good morning, Elfnein,” she greets, smoothing down Elfnein’s sleep-mussed hair.

Blinking, evidently still half-asleep, Elfnein echoes, “Good morning.”

“I am in search of something quite important, but,” she presses a finger to her lips, “Maria mustn’t find out.”

“Why not?” Elfnein asks, guileless as ever.

She pauses, appraising a now bright-eyed Elfnein.

Her pride means nothing here, and she would rather not expose Elfnein to the shadowy world of _vices_ , but—such _blackmail_ in Maria’s hands is dangerous.

“Eh, well,” she hedges, doing her best to avoid the smirks of her ancestors’ portraits, “it is… something of a… a matter of… you see… it is such and such, as things of this sort tend to go, you know.”

“No… I don’t know…?” Elfnein squints at her, dubious.

Laughing nervously, she guides Elfnein away from the hall of portraits.

“Regardless, now that you are awake, perhaps we should prepare breakfast? It is quite important to have breakfast in the morning, and I think Maria will be up soon enough.”

“O-0kay….”

They are in the kitchen, Tsubasa in the middle of shredding cheese, when Elfnein hazards a guess, “Where you looking for something?”

Curiosity in children is never to be underestimated.

“Yes, I was,” she admits; she might as well let Elfnein know, since it is only a (mostly) harmless game between she and Maria. She shakes her head, fond amusement seeping into her tone as she explains, “Maria has a few _embarrassing_ recordings of me that I wish to reclaim lest she use them to bribe our friends.”

“Bribing is bad,” Elfnein tells her, sage and solemn.

Resisting the sudden urge to laugh, she agrees, “That it is, but at most I shall suffer only a mild bruising to my ego.”

“I can help!” Elfnein declares, and in her distraction she does not realize that her pajama’s sleeve has dipped into the egg batter. “Oh, oops.” Elfnein grins sheepishly.

“First,” Tsubasa chuckles, turning off the stove, “let us get you cleaned up. Later, perhaps, I might take you up on your offer, but it shall be our little secret plan, alright?”

“Alright,” Elfnein cheers as quietly as she can, making Tsubasa laugh again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written per the request of Astraeon (on AO3) from #1.22. I don't know if you've followed the series up to this point, Astraeon, but if you are reading this then I hope that you don't mind the (very) late delivery and the mild deviation from what you envisioned; I might eventually write a follow-up in the fourth arc, when Tsubasa and Elfnein have a closer relationship, to better meet your request.
> 
> Please review! I do welcome ideas/requests!


	72. 2.72 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The "greater good" doesn't exist.

### SEVENTY-TWO

“Let me get this straight.” She crosses her arms and scowls, “You _think_ Leiur Darahim is being _pressured_ into bullying others by her circle of friends so you want to _use_ my daughter to help Miss Darahim ‘find the error of her ways,’ is that right?”

With a slight nod, Mr. Oreki says, “I would not say it as such, but in essence, yes.” He clasps his hands, setting them firmly atop his desk. “I regret to say that most of Miss Darahim’s classmates avoid her, thus my recourse to Miss Malus Dienheim, who presents a fortuitous blank slate.

“Please, Mrs. Kazanari, I only wish to help Miss Leiur out of this situation before it is too late, and it is my hope that Miss Elfnein can and will assist.”

Before it is _too_ _late_.

_“This isn’t—this isn’t what Serena would want!”_

_“It’s too late to turn back,” Nastassja shook her head. “Your regrets come too late, Maria.”_

Her own hands clench into fists, but—

“What if Elfnein gets hurt?” she retorts, because it is more than likely to happen and _that_ is something she simply can’t permit. This is… like that time…

 _Kirika buried her face in her hands, whispering, “I’m damned if I do and I’m damned if I don’t, but I don’t know what’s_ right _,” echoing Maria’s own despairing thoughts._

“Although I cannot guarantee it, I will do everything in my power to keep them from harm. However, is it not a risk that she must inevitably face?” he adds in a sad murmur.

She _hates_ that concept: the thought of _inevitability_ is something odious, something that dares suggest they are powerless against _fate_ and _destiny_ and whatever higher powers govern their lives. It is the equivalent to saying that—

_“As a daughter of Fudou Kazanari, is it not a given that I will one day become him?”_

_“Victims become aggressors; it’s a cycle. After what Finè did… I can’t trust myself.”_

Nothing here takes place under the high stakes of her early life, nor does this question hold the same moral severity as then, yet she finds herself just as torn as she used to be.

It’s _her_ _daughter_ , after all; of course this is going to make her question practically every decision in her life!

She just… wishes these decisions were easier.

As much as she understands Leiur Darahim’s struggle—she does, she honestly does—she’s simultaneously loathe to put Elfnein in danger.

Can she, in good conscience, deny this help?

She has seen Elfnein’s faint smile, ill-hidden nervousness and _exhilaration_ rolled into one little expression. Barely two full days, now three, of classes and Elfnein has mentioned Leiur Darahim many, many times.

Frankly, the decision has already been made.

Restraining a sigh, she acquiesces, “Very well.” She hands Mr. Oreki the paper he had sent for her and Tsubasa to sign.

“Ah, Mrs. Kazanari is also in agreement?” he checks, looking tentatively hopeful. It seems he truly cares for his students’ wellbeing—she can’t begrudge him that.

“Yes,” she nods. “Tsubasa trusts my decisions.”

They both stand.

He walks her to the door, where he pauses to bow to her.

“Thank you, Mrs. Kazanari.”

She thinks about herself, a teenager angry at the world’s injustice. She thinks about falling deeper into the rabbit hole. She thinks about the grave mistakes that will never, ever disappear.

“No,” she sighs. “Thank _you_ , Mr. Oreki, for looking out for Miss Darahim.”

Because it’s not too late for Leiur Darahim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite frankly I'm not sure where I was going with this. It's a mix of backstory and exposition, I suppose? I rewrote it a ton of times; if I dwell on it any further it will probably take me another week to make up my mind, so have it as it is.
> 
> Maybe I've been thinking a little too much about the upcoming Arc III (which is surprisingly 50% planned out).
> 
> Please review!


	73. 2.73 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If she could someday be the one helping instead of the one being helped... someday.

### SEVENTY-THREE

Sometimes she has difficulty falling asleep.

Sometimes she goes out to count stars, but sometimes she stays in bed and counts sheep instead. She likes to imagine them jumping over the fence, bounding away to wherever their hearts desire; she usually falls asleep right around when she starts losing track of her numbers.

Sometimes, though, she can't fall asleep no matter what she does, so she seeks her parents' bed. Their warmth is very reassuring—but it’s not something she does often. Only sometimes, when she can’t stand the _tick-tock_ of the clock in her room, when the numbers on her little sheep blur into ash, when loneliness and bad thoughts try to intrude…

Only when she can’t keep going by herself.

So she makes the decision to slip out of bed, taking Eli with her, and tiptoes to the door.

But, tonight, when she peeks out into the hallway:

A sliver of light greets her at the threshold of her room, stretching across the hallway to rise up along the open edge of the door to her parents’ bedroom.

It’s like a yellow-brick road. She follows it to….

“You’re awake,” she murmurs, blinking at Mama, who sets her book down and blinks back.

“We don’t have very good sleeping habits,” Mama chuckles with a guilty smile, but Elfnein can see that she’s tired—upset.

Papa used to look like that, sometimes.

He’d smile but his eyes would be heavy, making him look like a panda in the mornings. Even though he never _said_ he was upset, even though he would laugh and tell jokes and mess up breakfast as usual, Papa hadn’t been able to hide it completely.

She and Carol had always known. They just… hadn’t known how to help. She had asked, once, and he had mock-scolded, _“It’s Papa’s job to worry about you two rapscallions, not the other way around!”_

She still hasn’t found the answer.

Putting that aside, because it’s not like the answer will conveniently pop up right now, she shuffles forward, mumbling, “C-can I…?”

“Of course,” Mama pats the empty space beside her. “Tsubasa will probably scold us when she gets back, but it’s okay if we stay up a while longer past bedtime. It’s the weekend, after all.” Her smile, this time, is happier in a way Elfnein definitely notices but can’t explain.

If she asked, would Mama give her an answer?

She snuggles into the blankets; it’s warmer by Mama’s side, and she _wants_ the solid presence of her mother, so naturally she ends up plastering herself against Mama.

A hand pets her hair and a voice hums softly.

Here, in her parents’ bed, she’s not alone. This is proof of that, isn’t it? She doesn’t have to be scared anymore.

But—she also wants to help her parents, like they help her.

She yawns, clutching Eli to her chest, and Mama pauses to say, “Sleep, darling.”

If only she knew how to help.

Wouldn’t it be nice if there was a handbook? A user’s manual with a table of contents and an index and all the answers possible…

That’d be nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I wrote the second half this morning I was listening to "Garasu no Hanazono" and I really wanted to write some NozoEli. I couldn't come up with anything quick and short, so now I'm stuck carrying this emotion around until I find an outlet for it, lol. -Buries face in hands and groans- they're just so...!!!
> 
> Anyway. Please review!


	74. 2.74 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, she is a tad disoriented (and a tad wistful).

### SEVENTY-FOUR

Do her ears deceive her?

Perhaps she is still dreaming. Surely she must be dreaming, because it has been such a long time since she last heard… last heard—she stifles a yawn, shaking her head to clear the cobwebs.

Her sluggish, heavy steps change direction, seeking the source of the distant tones that leave her dazed and thinking of a time long gone.

Long gone… to a place she cannot yet follow….

Abruptly, a sharp dissonance leaves her wincing; the displeasing progression scolds her for her idle wistfulness.

This is the waking world.

It is not Kanade that she finds at the source.

Maria frowns deeply, making the occasional hum as she continues playing horridly.

Once the piece reaches its _thrilling_ conclusion, she remarks, “I sincerely hope that either the piano is in sore need of tuning or it is your students’ work, Maria.”

“Tsubasa!” Maria smiles before grimacing, “Well, I already tuned the piano, so I’m afraid that can’t be it. But not _all_ of them are this bad; in fact, I think there are some that even _you_ would like, Miss Classically-Trained-Elitist.” Maria tosses her a teasing smirk.

 _“Voice lessons?” Kanade scoffed with a toss of her head, “Please! Not all of us can afford fancy-shmancy_ classical _educations. What you’re hearing is raw talent, baby!”_

Perhaps—in another life, perhaps Maria and Kanade would have been fast friends, kindred spirits in mocking Tsubasa’s background.

She takes a seat beside Maria, chuckling to herself while Maria jots down a few remarks on the student’s composition.

“First year students, I take it?” She finds that her fingertips rest lightly on the piano keys before she can reign in the foolish impulse—how long has it been? How much time has passed between… between then and now?

“Mhm…. Like I said, they’re not too bad.” Maria sets the score aside for a different one. “This one, for example….”

A pleasant enough lilt, but repetitive and a few too many four-one chords.

“Yes,” Maria concedes, “but I think it’s because I mentioned that I like the gospel sound of four-one chords.” She shakes her head ruefully.

“You should have mentioned your appreciation of English rock music instead.”

This… is another thing Maria shares with Kanade….

Maria tilts her head, musing, “Rock on the piano? It doesn’t sound like they’d go well together.”

_“I—I do not t-think it would… s-sound...,” she trailed off, afraid of dampening Kanade’s spirits with her pessimism._

_“Ridiculous! Anything’s possible if you put your mind to it!” Kanade slammed her fist into her opposite hand and her eyes blazed, the very picture of adamant determination. “We’ll combine your traditionalist stuff with my… with whatever my stuff is, and it’ll be the next biggest thing! You and me, Tsubasa, we’re gonna take the world by storm.”_

It has been too long.

A gentle pressure squeezes her elbow, startling her out of the memory of Kanade’s dear smile.

Maria’s smile is knowing, if a bit sad.

“Still disoriented after your nap?”

Nodding, she sighs, “I was on my way to the kitchen when I realized that the piano I heard was not a remnant of my dreams. What you were playing earlier… it sounded familiar.

“Or…,” she frowns, attempting to recall what her thoughts had been a quarter of an hour ago, “perhaps not, if you have only been playing your students’ compositions.”

“Everything’s a little blurry when you’ve barely woken up,” Maria pats her arm, “so don’t stress out about it, okay?”

“A feat easier said than done,” she grouses, only to sigh.

Maria’s grip on her arm tightens momentarily; she glances in askance, catching a glimpse of concern, but Maria shakes her head.

“How about we get started on dinner? I’m sure Elfnein needs a break from homework, too.”

She hums in response, fingertips and gaze once again resting on black and white.

It has been… more than a decade since she last played. More than a decade since she last had the courage to even _step_ into this room. Only her father’s diligence has kept the old piano in playable condition, though it has fallen to the wayside once again in the last two months.

Her skills have surely deteriorated.

“Tsubasa?”

She nods, agreeing, “It is an agreeable plan. I will fetch Elfnein.” She meets Maria’s gaze as they both stand.

“Okay.” Maria gives her arm one last squeeze, then lets go. “I’ll just put everything in order here and join you in the kitchen in a few minutes.”

With Maria here, the piano and the room shall not be wholly abandoned, at least.

It is enough.

Maria is enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has little relevance to the story. Oh well. We all have those off moments, right?
> 
> I can't get "Garasu no Hanazono" out of my head.
> 
> You know, I'm completely tone (tune?) deaf so when my counselor had the brilliant idea of putting me in AP Music Theory... it did not go very well for me, haha. If it weren't for lots of extra credit and the kindness of the teacher (may she rest in peace) I probably would've failed the course. The teacher offhandedly mentioned that she liked IV-I chords (she was really into gospels) and that's when I figured that I might as well stick a bunch of those into my piano composition because I had no idea what I was doing. She more or less liked it, but the flute accompaniment I wrote was like an octave out of the flute's range and it brought my score down, welp.
> 
> Anyway... please review ^^


	75. 2.75 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She can't make up her mind.

### SEVENTY-FIVE

“Independence,” she mutters to herself. This is for Elfnein’s independence—it won’t do Elfnein any good to have Maria constantly hovering and trying to protect her from everything.

Still, she finds herself hesitating, frozen a few feet away from the tree where Elfnein is sitting with Leiur Darahim.

Leiur Darahim has her arms crossed and eyebrows pulled down in a stern frown, but Elfnein cheerfully maintains a steady stream of conversation all by herself; it doesn’t look like Elfnein even _notices_ Leiur’s pointed boredom.

No, of course Elfnein must have noticed. The question is, then, why isn’t Elfnein bothered by it? Elfnein might not know that Leiur Darahim is a bully—a fact that bothers her even though she’s made a promise—but the girl is currently making it very clear that she has no real interest in keeping Elfnein company.

So—why is Elfnein smiling so easily?

Why hasn’t Elfnein given up? Why is Elfnein putting so much effort into a one-sided conversation that Leiur Darahim doesn’t care about?

As she approaches once again, Leiur happens to look up and notice her coming towards them. There is a hasty goodbye, cutting off Elfnein mid-sentence, and a hasty retreat in the opposite direction.

It figures that Leiur Darahim would run away from a potential confrontation (and maybe it’s a harsh thought to have, because Leiur Darahim is _ten years old_ , but this is about Maria’s _daughter_ , okay).

“Hi!” Elfnein pops up in front of her, interrupting her thoughts with a small smile.

“Hello, darling,” she replies, smoothing down Elfnein’s windblown hair. “Did you have fun at school today?” She barely refrains from remarking on Leiur Darahim’s escape.

Elfnein nods, thrusting the book in her hands toward Maria and exclaiming, “We’re doing human anatomy—did you know we’re born with 270 bones but we only have 206 when we’re fully-grown?”

“Uh, no, I didn’t know we lost _that_ many,” she replies with genuine surprise. She takes the book, noting that it’s about the anatomy of the human body. The front-cover drawing of a skeleton showing off one half of its musculature actually creeps her out a little bit; it reminds her of that time she snuck into Lydian and got lost in the science department.

“We do, but it’s not really that we _lose_ them, it’s that they fuse together, like the bones in your skull. Oh! Mr. Oreki brought a skull to show us!”

She shudders, still thinking about her little misadventure.

Disembodied skulls? No, thank you.

Elfnein swings their hands between them, hardly able to contain her enthusiasm for the human skeleton—just wonderful.

“Also, did you know that bat wings are similar to our arms? We have the same bone structure, and Miss Darahim says it’s because bats and humans are both mammals.

“There’s a picture in the book, it’s really cool but I can’t pronounce most of the scientific names and ….”

 _Miss Darahim_.

Well, it’s good to hear that Leiur Darahim isn’t a complete grouch with Elfnein, right?

She sighs, and Elfnein pauses to glance at her.

“Fifty-four bones, really?” Maria asks, secretly thanking Kirika and Shirabe for inadvertently helping her master the skill of multitasking.

“Yes!” Elfnein nods, sticking out her free hand to demonstrate. “There’s twenty-seven in each hand, so fifty-four in both.”

“Amazing,” she says, honestly impressed. “But we should hurry to the station. You can tell me more when we get on the train, okay?”

“Okay!”

She has to trust Elfnein.

It’s not like Elfnein is made of glass, after all, even if her heart says so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't expect to spend my first two days of summer break traipsing all over the place, but it's such a breath of fresh air from the last ten weeks of doom-and-gloom. Anyway, I have a bunch of things I have to reply to, including reviews for a couple of my stories, so I'll do those tomorrow.
> 
> Since I'm on break now, I hope to update daily until we reach #80, then maybe take a week off before starting "Alphabet Soup," the next story in the series. There's also a couple of stories I've been wanting to write (can you believe I got an idea for a Harry Potter AU? preposterous) so I'll be working on that this week and forwards.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's been reading so far (this story has reached 40 kudos on AO3) and thank you in particular to everyone who's left me a review!
> 
> Please review!


	76. 2.76 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not so bad.

### SEVENTY-SIX

It’s kind of surprising how quickly everything falls into routine.

Or maybe not, she muses as she watches Miss Darahim hurry away.

Routines are… comforting. They’re familiar—a constant anyone can rely on. It’s only natural that the world falls into routine wherever possible, right?

So it’s not a surprise that Miss Darahim has to leave her behind before coming back.

Honestly, going alone to the cafeteria still scares her.

But it gets a little bit easier every day; this is also a routine.

It doesn’t bother her that she has to do this by herself, that she has to be brave all by herself.

Nevertheless, she still has to pause outside the cafeteria doors to take a few deep breathes so that she can go in. She can see her reflection in the polished steel of the cafeteria doors, so she gives herself a tentative smile.

Alright. She can do this, just as she’s been doing it for the past couple of weeks.

The cafeteria is loud.

Most of the kids don’t look her way.

She walks—she doesn’t run or stumble or shuffle—around the edge of the cafeteria, skirting full tables to find an empty one.

Her luck holds out: within a few minutes, she’s sitting down at an empty table off to the side.

Unlike at the orphanage, no one has tried to approach her yet. It’s probably because of Miss Darahim’s bad reputation. Well, it saves her the trouble of being the one to disappoint them, so she doesn’t mind. It saves her the trouble of being hurt.

Besides, this way she gets to read her books in peace while she eats lunch.

That’s not so bad, right?

Except…

“Her hair looks so fluffy. D’you think she’d let me touch it if I asked?”

“I heard she’s got a funny accent.”

“No, don’t go talk to her! She hangs out with Darahim, remember? Darahim will get mad if you bother Benham.”

She tries not to sigh. That’s not even her name.

At least at the orphanage she didn’t stand out so much. There, everyone had been an orphan and almost everyone had a bit of foreigner in them.

Here—well, here she sticks out like a sore thumb, just like Mama had warned her about during New Years’. It’s not something that will ever go away.

Well, she _could_ dye her hair—oh, and she’s heard of colored contacts, too!

She blinks at her anatomy textbook.

Glossy pages, bright colors, printed text. Diagrams of the different organ systems, pictures of animals, charts of data… all sorts of stuff that she likes.

They’re all the same on the inside, German and Japanese and everything else. She doesn’t have to change. Her parents like her just the way she is.

“You know she stutters a lot? Like Emiya, but I guess Dienheim isn’t _as_ bad as Emiya.”

“I bet she’d be so _cool_ if she didn’t st—”

“Hello.” Miss Darahim plops down in front of her, scowling like usual.

She smiles, “Hello, Miss Darahim.” She’s human, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's fifty-ish minutes before midnight but I still made it in time, lol.
> 
> Please review!


	77. 2.77 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Speaking of Valentine's Day, she must remember to do something especially grand for Maria this year....

### SEVENTY-SEVEN

In the middle of trimming the stems on the roses, the shop telephone starts to ring.

She sets down her scissors, leans over the counter, and places the call on speaker: “ _Flowers of the Crying Wind_ , Mrs. Kazanari speaking. How may I help you?”

“Um, h-hello,” static crackles over the line, “I saw your ad in the newspaper for, um, V-Valentine’s Day orders?”

Pulling out a pen and her orders notepad, she replies, “Yes, we have a promotional offer, 4000¥ per bouquet of a dozen roses. Additionally, if you recommend us to someone, you obtain a twenty-percent discount on your next purchase.” Her pen hovers over the paper; her hand trembles just so, she notes.

“O-okay, uh, do you deliver?”

“Currently, the shop only delivers locally, around the village, for no extra charge.” She resists the urge to tap her pen against the paper.

“Lucky for m-me, then,” the person chuckles nervously.

It occurs to her then that perhaps this potential customer is nervous because of the nature of the holiday. A first-time gift for their sweetheart, perhaps.

How adorable.

“Then, shall I prepare a bouquet of a dozen red roses, to be delivered on Valentine’s Day?” The tip of her pen presses onto paper.

“Y-yes! P-please and thank you. Um, i-if y-you could, um….”

“Would you like to include a message on the complementary tag?” She cannot help but smile.

It reminds her of her own budding romance with Maria, many years ago.

Sheepish laughter, then: “Yes, please. This might, uh, s-sound a little cheesy… but… c-could you write, ‘These flowers can’t compare to you but please take them as a token of my affection for you’? A-and don’t sign it, please; she’ll know it’s from me.”

“Please tell me if this is correct: ‘These flowers can’t compare to you but please take them as a token of my affection for you.’”

“Ah!” the person squeals, making Tsubasa chuckle. “I-it sounds so embarrassing,” and the rest of the statement dissolves into incoherent mumbles.

To be young and in love…

Of course, she _is_ still very much in love.

“Very well,” she says, hoping to save her customer before they faint of bashful embarrassment, “and what of the ribbon and tissue paper? Would you like the customary white, or would you like to choose a different color for either?”

“Oh, um, do you have a lavender-colored ribbon? It’ll match her eyes—” a dreamy sigh of one truly head-over-heels—“a-a-and w-white tissue paper, please.”

Details noted, she confirms, “Lavender ribbon, white tissue paper, and a message on the tag for a dozen red roses. Is that correct?”

“Y-yes.”

“Thank you. Let me place your order, then. Your name?” She hurries around the counter to where the orders program, thankfully, is standing by on the computer.

“K-Koizumi. Um, H-Hanayo Koizumi.”

“Billing address?”

“2525….”

Once she ends the call, a heavy sigh escapes her and she collapses back into her seat.

About a month in yet the new-business nerves have not abated much.

Nevertheless, it brings a smile to her face; this is the season of love, and what better omen for her shop than that?

Her own slice of the halcyon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -laughs- now it's Valentine's Day four months late ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ For the record, it's the end of January in-story and V-Day probably won't happen this time around.
> 
> Warning: the last three chapters are going to be cliffhangers.


	78. 2.78 | Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's like that day on the train all over again.

### SEVENTY-EIGHT

She has to cover her mouth in order to stifle a laugh at Shirabe’s unimpressed, horribly sunburnt face glowering up at the camera—it looks like Australia didn’t suit Shirabe at _all_.

The next photo, however, has her cringing back. She doesn’t have anything against spiders, but that _thing_ on Kirika’s hand is _massive_ and how is Kirika even _alive_ right now?

Well, that is definitely more than enough of the Australian outback for Maria to last her a lifetime.

As she reaches for the next envelope of photos, however, her cell begins to buzz, followed by the beginning notes of the default ringtone; she frowns, wondering who could possibly be calling her when she’s at work, even if it _is_ her lunch hour. It can’t be Tsubasa…

_Chris Yukine, incoming call._

“Hello?” she asks—there’s a tremulous note on the question because what if Chris is calling her about Shirabe and Kirika? What if that giant spider-thing followed them home and—

“Calm down, Maria. I can hear you panicking all the way from here,” is Chris’ grumbly response.

She sighs heavily, her shoulders relaxing and her eyes closing. No giant spider-things followed Kirika home; they’re safe.

She blinks—that was an absurd train of thought, wasn’t it?

“Heh, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

She clears her throat and says, “It’s fine.” She shakes her head, adding ruefully, “I was just looking at the photos from your stay in Australia. I overreacted, I think.”

“No, no,” Chris mutters, “you care about them. It’s normal.”

Is it just her, or is there something… off?

“Well,” she begins with a light laugh, “isn’t this where you usually order me to quit being such a worrywart?”

Chris snorts, “It’s not like you or Tsubasa ever manage to tone it down.

“You will always worry.”

She opens her mouth to reply but—she can’t make sense of Chris’ abruptly dark and sad tone.

“Anyway,” Chris clears her throat, “I was just wondering how Elfnein’s been settling in at the school. I—I know I’m a few weeks late, but, y’know how it is. I’ve been buried in paperwork since we got back and, well—”

“Chris, it’s fine!” She laughs again, softly, “Elfnein is happy at her school, and….” She frowns, wondering if she should mention the whole issue with Leiur Darahim.

“How are her classes? Her teachers?” Chris asks with an intensity that takes Maria aback.

“Uh, her homeroom teacher, Mr. Oreki, is very kind in helping Elfnein settle in. He truly cares for his students,” she says, because it’s true. Regardless of the debacle, she respects Mr. Oreki.

“Oreki….”

“Mhm. As for classes,” she chuckles, “Elfnein is currently obsessed with anatomy. Last night she finished reading her anatomy textbook for the _second_ time. I mean, it’s not that long, but still!”

Chris notes, “You have a scholar on your hands,” echoing a similar sentiment from when she had stayed at the Kazanari estate, only this time… with a heavy undertone…?

“Remind me again what the name of the school is? I keep forgetting.”

“Matsuoka Elementary School…,” she replies, hesitant. There’s a growing feeling of foreboding in her chest.

She barely hears Chris snapping under her breath, “I _knew_ it. This is bad, really—”

 _Bad_?

“—Wait, Chris, what do you mean—”

“Nothing, nothing,” Chris interrupts in an overly-loud voice. “Just—forget I said anything. I have to—”

“—Chris?” she insists, more urgently this time. What did Chris mean by “bad”? What could possibly be bad?

The end-dial tone drones in response.

Just as she tries to call Chris back, the bell rings—she has to get back to her class.

“By Jove!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was unexpectedly busy the last two days, but I promise the last two updates will be up tomorrow and Saturday, respectively.


	79. 2.79 | Tsubasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria would -- would call her, would let her know, right?

** SEVENTY-NINE **

“I… must be… getting… out of shape,” she huffs, sitting down at the fountain’s edge and wiping sweat off her face with her handkerchief, “if a mere bicycle is able to best me.”

She scowls at said bicycle, propped up in front of her. She misses her motorcycle days.

“Ah, but we have not the time to tarry,” she scolds herself. She glances at her watch, sees that it is just past one in the afternoon, and stands up once again.

Indeed, if she wants to be at the train station on time, she will have to hurry to deliver the remaining bouquets and arrangements—which, if the last couple of hours are any indicator, will take her a good while.

Perhaps she should hire a part-time hand to do this part for her. Her budget can accommodate that, right? Especially with Valentine’s Day only two weeks away….

Mounting her bicycle once again, she takes a moment to check the next address on her list before setting off, her weary feet peddling away.

She truly misses her motorcycle, but she has only herself to blame for losing it.

The breeze caressing her face takes her sigh, carrying that moment of grief up to the sky; she hasn’t the time to tarry, after all—her family relies on her.

Besides, it is a pleasant day of sunshine and light breezes, weaving around parents with children too young to go to school and passing by open storefronts with busy customers and shop owners. Many wave to her, and she waves in return, a smile coming to her despite her previous annoyance and melancholy.

It is almost a dream (though her aching body firmly dissuades her of _that_ notion).

When she is down to the last delivery, she pauses to rehydrate herself and to check the time.

“The final bell should ring soon,” she murmurs, meaning that she has forty minutes left. She is confident that she has enough time to deliver this bouquet, return to the shop to round out a few things, and still make it to the station with some time to spare.

Ah, time.

The last delivery goes to a smiling young man.

He sheepishly tells her, “I always forget to stop by the flower shop, but Kaori has a concert tonight and these are her favorites. Thank you for delivering them,” and gives her a low bow.

“I am sure she will be happy,” she tells him.

Time to spare, time to waste, time to do everything she never thought she wanted to do.

Like delivering flowers for pianists to give to violinists.

Her cell beeps: an alarm she has set for three o’clock, reminding her that she has people who depend on her to pick them up in half an hour.

“Right on time,” she smirks, then ruefully adds, “no thanks to you, my dear bicycle.”

The bicycle has no comment.

She is in the middle of locking up the flower shop for the day when her cell begins to buzz—somewhere inside the shop.

Hastily reentering, she locates her cell by the shop’s computer, _Hibiki Tachibana_ flashing across the screen.

“Ah, hel—”

“Tsubasa!” She winces and pulls the phone away from her ear, though Hibiki’s voice continues to shout, “is Elfnein with you?! What about Carol?!”

What?

“What?” she asks, frowning deeply. “No, of course not. Elfnein should be with Maria, on—”

“Keep an eye on the station! And stay there, don’t go anywhere until we find them!”

She stares at her cell phone for a moment after Hibiki ends the call.

Of course she heard that incorrectly. Hibiki certainly did not mean to imply that—that Elfnein is _missing_ (along with Carol, Hibiki’s daughter).

It is a misunderstanding.

Maybe she misheard. She is tired and Hibiki called so abruptly; yes, that must be it.

But she calls Maria—to be safe.

The call rings and rings and rings, each passing moment making her heart beat faster.

“Please… please answer, Maria.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last update is tomorrow~ Please do leave a review sometime, let me know what you thought of the story, what you liked, what could've been better, etc.


	80. 2.80 | Elfnein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah.
> 
> Maybe this has been a dream all along....

### EIGHTY

Book in hand, she searches for a nice shady spot further away from the lower grades, which wait in rambunctious groups with their teachers to get picked up. It’s too bad that Miss Darahim already left, but it’ll be a few minutes longer before Mama comes to pick her up, so she thinks she can squeeze in a couple of pages.

There’s a commotion somewhere near, someone’s shouting, “Get back here!” She glances up, wondering if maybe she should move; she’s not bothering anyone, though, and as long as she keeps to herself they’ll leave her alone.

“You!” that same person shouts.

A-and besides, Mama will be here soon, and there are teachers—

“ _Halt_!”

She stands up again. Maybe she _should_ move.

“I said _halt_!”

Her book falls from her hand, whoops, clumsy her. She stoops to pick it up.

“I’ll teach you to mess with me!”

If only that _voice_ —why aren’t the teachers doing anything about the fight?

“I _mean_ it, _Dummkopf_! I’ll teach you to take my stuff!”

Oh, she’s _obviously_ hearing things—she must be tired from staying up late again, nothing a good night’s sleep will fi—

“Miss Malus Dienheim! Mister Matou! Both of you, come with me to the principal’s office.”

Yep, definitely hearing things—

“I didn’t do anything!” a third voice protests.

“He’s lying, sir! He stole my book!”

Isn’t it funny, that the voice sounds so much like Carol? It must be the German accent, or maybe she really is—

“Miss Malus Dienheim, that is no reason to take matters into your own hands, and Mister Matou, if you truly have not done anything, then you will gladly answer the principal’s questions on the matter, correct?”

Her fingers scrabble for her book, sweaty all of a sudden, and then she’s moving away, because it’s better that she not eavesdrop on such a conversation.

 “Ah, Mr. Akurou, I apologize for interrupting, but that is my daughter involved. May I accompany you to the principal’s office?”

“That’s not fair! It’s all Dienheim’s fault!”

“Certainly, Mrs. Tachibana, and do not worry, Mister Matou, we will call your parents to join us, as well.”

“Elfnein, there you are,” Maria’s voice reaches her, forcing her steps to cease altogether even though her heart’s about to careen right out of her chest.

But it’s a good thing; now she can go home and fo—

“Miku?”

“Maria! This is a surprise, but I’m afraid I have to—”

Don’t notice, _don’t_ notice—

“—E- _Elfnein_?”

She gasps, high-pitched and scared, but her feet don’t move. She’s _paralyzed_ , watching Carol dodge someone’s grasp and dash towards her.

“Carol!”

“ _Elfnein!_ ”

“Wait!” Maria calls out just as Carol snags Elfnein’s arm.

She has only a moment to stare at Maria before Carol’s insistent tugs force her to turn and run with Carol.

“Elfnein!”

It’s not Carol calling her anymore—it’s Maria.

And—

She doesn’t know why, but—

But she follows Carol. There’s a commotion erupting behind them and Carol’s grip on her hand hurts and it’s already hard to breathe, but she keeps her eyes trained on Carol’s fluttering hair—she doesn’t look back, doesn’t try to stop, doesn’t do anything.

There’s nothing she _can_ do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is the end of Arc II.
> 
> I'll keep the reflection short (mostly because it is hot as heck here and I want to go cool down). Although some things fell a little flat of my expectations, I'm happy to say that I enjoyed working on this story, and I'm extremely thankful for everyone's support on FFN and AO3. I didn't expect the story become so long, but I think I've learnt a lot over the course of it. Hopefully I will continue to improve as I continue writing this project and others.
> 
> As always, please leave a review; I really welcome the readers' thoughts, even one-liners ^^
> 
> Heads up, I will be taking a week-long break from this story. I'll be back on the 27th with the first chapter of "Alphabet Soup"!
> 
> Once again, thank you to everyone who's read the story :)


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